Legacy: Book IV
by IF-HBomb
Summary: ExA, sequel to Brisingr. Rated T for possible language and mature scenes in later chapters, although they are not guaranteed to exist. I haven't decided yet.
1. Chapter 1: Cliffside

The chapters now posted in this story have been revised as of Sept. 14, 2012. If you have read Legacy before then, I recommend that you reread it before continuing with any future chapters. If not, then please enjoy my story.

This story is meant to be my best attempt at creating a good book IV for the Inheritance Cycle. While I started this before the 4th book originally came out, I found the necessity to finish it after I discovered how disappointing _Inheritance_ actually was.

If you have questions about anything in the story, you can always leave a review! I will do my best to respond to every review that goes beyond a simple "Good story!" or something of the like.

Please enjoy

Chapter 1: Cliffside

It was a concerning sight, the thirteen elves walking through Feinster only a few hours after the battle had officially ended. One elf, a female whom many of the Varden knew merely as Arya, and now as Shadeslayer, walked in front. The other twelve had taken to guarding her instead of their normal charge, whom had vanished earlier that morning without explanation. The elves themselves were not what was concerning, it was how they walked in a gloom of dismay and sorrow, as if a great tragedy had occurred and nobody but them had yet learned of it.

They seemed almost oblivious to those around them, and their path eventually led them to the castle, where Nasuada, the leader of the Varden, had decided to set up her command post. They entered the keep and made their way through a few dark and gloomy corridors until they approached the room which had nearly been destroyed by Arya and Eragon's fight with the shade. Arya wasn't sure why Nasuada had decided to use that room as her headquarters, but the thought of going back into it was depressing. It almost made her feel sick. The last time she was in that room she had been rendered helpless by Varaug, something she had only experienced three times before.

Arya had always prided herself in her ability to take care of herself, but even she could not deny that a shade was beyond her ability to handle. She found herself having to admit what a solid team she and Eragon made. She had helped Eragon kill Durza in Tronjheim, and he had helped her with Varaug. Such feats had never happened in all of recorded history, and especially not in such a short time span. This realization was what brought her to Nasuada. She wanted to know where Eragon was.

To her, he was a completely different person since his return from Helgrind. He had matured beyond what she thought would be possible in such a short time. Also, on a more personal level, she had begun to feel an odd sense of security when she was around him. She had a difficult time admitting it to herself, but in her heart she knew that he was the one person who would always be there for her. The others–Nasuada and her mother–would be willing to sacrifice her to achieve their objective, and rightly so. She knew that she was not any more important than their objective and she would willingly lay down her life if it meant that Galbatorix would be slain. Yet, despite her noble attitude, she couldn't help but feel warm inside knowing that Eragon would never stand for such a thing. She knew that he would protect her, even if it meant harm would come to himself.

Arya would have never asked for such treatment from anyone, especially the sole hope of defeating Galbatorix, yet at the same time she cherished how someone actually cared about her enough to put himself in harms way to help her. Few enough in her life had ever showed her kindness, especially of that magnitude. Once, long ago, she had experienced something similar with Faolin, but before she had gathered the courage to even admit it to herself, he was torn away from her.

She informed one of Nasuada's guards, or Nighthawks as they were known amongst the Varden, that she wished to speak with the leader of the Varden. A moment later a voice from inside called, "Let her in!" The captain of the guard grasped the engraved door handle and heaved the massive double doors open. Arya walked into the room, leaving her guards to wait outside.

She glanced around the room and was unsettled by what she saw. The only other people in the room were Nasuada and a young human boy that was cleaning up the mess from the Shade.

Arya ignored Nasuada and gazed towards where the boy was cleaning. Even from where she was standing she could clearly see the blood on the ground that he was trying to remove. She unconsciously reached up and cupped her neck in the spot where Varaug had cut her. Most of the blood was her own. The thought sent a strange shiver down her spine. To know that she had been that close to death only hours earlier was unsettling.

Her gaze drifted towards the nearby chair that hadn't yet been moved from its earlier position. She remembered that it was there where Eragon had healed her wounds and told her of Oromis and Glaedr's fate. It was there that her life changed once again. While she had only spoken to Oromis sporadically during her tenure as ambassador, she had come to admire and trust the ancient Rider. She always felt that she could go to him and seek counsel without him going to her mother or berating her for any mistakes she might have made.

There was also the hole that Saphira had used to enter, and the numerous pieces of wood and stone that had been scattered and broken by Saphira during their fight with the shade, and from their attempts to kill the magicians who were trying to create him. As she thought of them she turned her head towards the stairs and observed that the man whose skull they cracked had already been removed, but the blood still stained the edge of the lowest stair and the nearby floor where he had been. Everything in the room made her feel uneasy.

Her train of thought was interrupted as Nasuada waved her hand in front of Arya's face saying, "Arya…Arya! Is something wrong?" 

Arya turned her gaze to Nasuada and said simply, "I was remembering what occurred this morning." She spoke in her normal voice, devoid of any emotion.

Nasuada turned to the cleaning boy and ordered, "Wait outside. We must speak in private." The boy bowed respectfully and left the room. She turned to Arya and said, "I'm glad you came. I was about to send for you."

"Why?" Arya asked, one eyebrow cocked curiously.

"I was hoping that you knew where Eragon was."

Arya shook her head. "I sought you out to ask you the same thing." She appeared thoughtful for a moment, and then added, "Why do you want to see him?"

Sighing, Nasuada slumped back into her armchair. "I just finished discussing the deaths of Oromis and Glaedr with your mother. There were some things said, which I'll tell both you and Eragon once we find him."

Arya considered her words for a brief moment, noting the hint of frustration. It was clear to Arya that Islanzadí and Nasuada had gotten into some sort of disagreement, and from the looks of things, her mother had won. Putting aside her observation, she pondered whether or not she should help Nasuada find Eragon. She could easily contact Saphira and inquire about their whereabouts, as she had spotted the sapphire dragon flying west towards the coast during their walk to the castle. However, she didn't want to interfere with Eragon and Saphira's mourning, especially not by bringing Nasuada to him only for her to hand him new orders.

Before Arya could decide what to do, Nasuada added, "And if I may ask, what is it that you need to see Eragon about?" 

Arya glanced away, making her decision that it was necessary to find Eragon. In response to Nasuada's question she said softly, "It's..._personal._" She reached out with her consciousness, finding Saphira's vast mind and brushing against her barriers. After a moment of surprise, Saphira lowered her barriers and allowed Arya to enter part of her mind.

The inside of a dragon's mind wasn't something anyone but a Rider could easily become accustomed to. Saphira's ancient thoughts and instincts flowed across their bond. At the same time Arya could hear echoes of Eragon's thoughts and see fragments of his memories. At one moment she would feel like she was in Saphira's mind, and then an instant later she would seem to be in Eragon's. She was even able to make out some of the memories that Saphira shielded from Eragon's waking mind so that he wouldn't constantly be troubled by them. Arya immediately turned away from that section before she saw something that she was not meant to.

Most of the feelings and emotions vanished as Saphira blocked her inner thoughts from Arya. The dragon snorted softly and said not unkindly, _What is it, emerald-eyes?_

_Nasuada needs to speak with Eragon. I would like to talk to him as well._

Arya could sense strong disapproval stemming from Saphira's mind. _I will not have her giving Eragon new orders right now. He has been through enough, we all have. _Arya waited patiently for Saphira to come to a decision. A minute later the dragon finally said, _I will bring you to him, and Nasuada as well if she promises in the Ancient Language to not give him new orders._

_Why is it that you trust me?_

_You are not blind to what we are feeling right now. Also...well...Eragon's trust in you influences my judgment. _

Arya gave the equivalent of a mental nod. _Thank you, Saphira. Nasuada and I are where we fought Varaug yesterday. _There was clear surprise and confusion in Saphira's thoughts about their location, but she closed off her mind and jumped into the sky.

Nasuada, who had been waiting patiently as Arya stared off into the distance, finally asked expectantly, "Well?"

Arya turned her head back to Nasuada, staring her in the eye. She was trying to decide how to explain Saphira's condition without offending Nasuada. With a sigh, she said, "Saphira has agreed to bring me to Eragon. She will bring you as well, but you have to promise in the Ancient Language to not attempt to give Eragon new orders during your visit. Saphira firmly believes that it is not what he needs right now."

Arya waited with a guarded expression, hoping Nasuada did not take the request the wrong way. The dark skinned leader of the Varden sighed and leaned back further in her chair. "I'm disappointed that Saphira does not trust me enough to do the right thing."

"I hardly think that you can blame her," Arya pointed out. "If you consider what you did to get Eragon to go to the clanmeet."

"Perhaps not," Nasuada said softly, seeming almost depressed. "Regardless, I had no orders to give Eragon. My visit was for his benefit.." She paused for a long moment, and then nodded at Arya. "Tell me what I must say."

Arya quickly tutored Nasuada in the pronunciation of the words that Saphira had asked for. Nasuada was a quick learner and she was able to get the oath from her before Saphira arrived

Saphira's massive wings created concussions that jarred her ears. Before the mighty dragoness landed, Arya took the opportunity to run outside of the room and quickly tell Blödhgarm what the situation was. He objected, of course, to her leaving without a guard, but Arya silenced him and told the elves to return to their tents.

As Arya entered the room Saphira gracefully landed in the massive hole in the wall, pushing several objects aside to make room. She turned her enormous head towards Arya, and Arya responded with a very faint nod, confirming that Nasuada gave the oath that she had asked for.

Satisfied, Saphira lowered herself to the ground as far as she could, stretching out her left front leg so that Nasuada could climb up onto her back.

Arya mounted Saphira first, effortlessly jumping into the saddle. She noticed Nasuada approaching Saphira carefully, obviously apprehensive about riding a dragon for the first time.

She slowly climbed up Saphira leg and took a seat behind Arya. Arya turned her head towards Nasuada and gave her a few pointers, much the same as Eragon had during their first flight.

Apparently impatient, Saphira jumped into the sky and banked over the Varden, flying towards the coast. Arya grunted as Nasuada tightened her arm around her waist in obvious fear. "Not. So. Tight," she murmured. Nasuada gradually reduced her grip as the flight continued, but it was still quite a bit tighter than Arya would have preferred.

Saphira pressed against Arya's mind, and she lowered her barriers. The dragon had also knocked aside Nasuada's defenses. She said, _Nasuada, understand that I said that I would take you to Eragon. I did not say whether or not he would speak to you. That much is up to him._

_How long until we reach him? _Nasuada asked, a hint of fear crept into her voice as she looked down at the ground.

_What? _Saphira asked, appearing hurt. _Are you not enjoying my flying? I could make it more exciting if you find this dull._

_No, please. _Nasuada begged. _Your flying is excellent, Saphira. I am just wondering how long it will take to reach __Eragon__. _Privately Arya let out of a sigh of relief as Saphira relaxed her wings and transitioned into a shallow dive.

Saphira landed a few moments later near the edge of a small cliff that overlooked the sea. Arya marveled at the sight; small waves of crystal clear water splashed against the base of the cliff, some thirty or forty feet below. Arya assumed that Eragon and Saphira had come here to remember Oromis and Glaedr.

Arya dismounted and helped Nasuada off of Saphira. Nasuada immediately walked towards Eragon, who was standing a few feet away looking out at the sea. He hadn't moved at all since they had landed, not even to acknowledge Saphira's presence. Arya stayed next to Saphira, slightly leaning against her side as she watched Nasuada and Eragon.

Nasuada approached Eragon and knelt behind him as a subject would do for his or her king. Arya watched with curiosity and surprise, for she had never seen Nasuada bow to anybody except for Hrothgar. _What is she doing?_ Arya asked Saphira.

_Trying to be clever, _the dragon said in an irritable tone. Just as Arya was about to ask what she meant Saphira said, _Watch, you'll see._

Several long moments passed in silence. Arya quickly grew bored and took to staring at Eragon in an attempt to gauge his mood and level of distress regarding the deaths of his masters. However, such a thing was impossible without seeing his face.

Eragon finally acknowledged Nasuada. He said softly, "Normally it is I who would bow to you."

"Normally," Nasuada replied calmly. "However, you are now the leader of the Dragon Riders and are thus beyond the control of any king or queen. I bow out of respect for the loss you have suffered and to show that I intend to release you from your vow of fealty."

"Why?" Eragon asked simply.

"It is what is best for the Varden."

There was a forced laugh from Eragon, and then he said, "No, not what is best for the Varden. It is what you think is best for our political relationship."

_Is this…wise? _Arya asked Saphira hesitantly. It did not seem like a good choice to question Nasuada when she appeared willing to release Eragon from his bonds.

_Watch._

"What do you mean?" asked Nasuada.

"When I swore fealty to you I know that you had no idea there was another Dragon Rider. For all intents and purposes you knew I was the leader of the Riders. The only thing that has changed in your world is that I assume Queen Islanzadí is now pressuring you to 'release' me from my oath." An edge crept into his voice, "You knew full well that you had no authority over me except that which I gave you. That is why you had to resort to threatening me when you wanted me to go to the dwarves' clanmeet."

"You have become adept at politics," Nasuada said, surprise clear in her voice. 

Arya hadn't even considered it from that point of view, likely because she had known about Oromis and Glaedr from the start. She knew Eragon had grown over the past months, but she didn't realize he had matured enough to handle politics effectively. She had always considered it to be a subtle art.

Eragon faced her and said, "Understand, I am not mad at you, nor do I resent you. I can accept that you did what you had to do in your situation. In the future, though, please don't try to manipulate me as you tried a few moments ago."

Nasuada rose from her kneeling position and laughed slightly, obviously embarrassed. "I suppose I am used to trying to use every situation to my advantage." Eragon nodded in understanding. "I can publicly announce your release tomorrow or the day after, if that is acceptable."

Eragon nodded. "That's fine." A brief silence reigned over their conversation, and then Eragon added, "Was there anything else you needed to see me about?"

"Yes," Nasuada confirmed. "Queen Islanzadí told me that she would like for you and Arya to contact her today if possible. Also, I wanted to personally convey my sympathy for your loss. It is never an easy time."

"Thank you," Eragon said. Arya could tell by his expression that he was generally grateful for her support, and somehow that made her feel almost...jealous. She immediately pushed the emotion aside, denying that she had ever felt it. Jealousy was not something that she allowed herself to experience.

Nobody spoke for a time, but, as usual, Eragon was the one to break the silence. He said to Nasuada in as strong of a voice as he could come up with, "You are a strong leader. Even though I am no longer bound by fealty, I will still support most of your decisions. If you need me, you have only to ask and I will help, assuming I generally agree with you." Nasuada nodded in response with a small smile on her face, clearly grateful for the compliment. "If you would like to return to the Varden now Saphira is willing to take you."

"Thank you." Nasuada glanced up at the sky. "As much as I would love to take the day off, things must be done." Eragon nodded.

Nasuada bade Eragon and Arya farewell, then walked over to Saphira and carefully climbed up one of her forelegs into the hollow of her neck. Saphira immediately took off and flapped back to the Varden, leaving Eragon and Arya alone on the edge of the cliff.

Arya noticed Eragon's expression soften slightly as he glanced at her. She wanted to smile at him, but could not bring herself to do so. He turned his back to her and resumed staring out over the edge of the miniature cliff. Arya joined him, feeling nostalgic as she remembered standing on the Crags of Tel'naeír with Oromis so many times.

Before she quite knew what she was doing, Arya found herself saying in a soft whisper, "I still can't believe they're gone. It just doesn't seem real."

Eragon responded in an equally quiet tone. "I feel the same way." She saw his eyes dart to her own for a split second, but that was all that he needed to see her distress about the situation. He gripped her hand loosely, she did not resist. "Come, sit with me. I have something to show you."

Arya allowed him to lead her to a nearby tree. He sat down and she joined him a moment later, leaning against the rough bark and doing her best to relax. He sighed. "When we were leaving Du Weldenvarden Oromis told me many things about himself and his past. One particularly special thing he gave me was for you." She looked up at him, interested in what Oromis could have possibly left for her. Eragon looked down, and Arya felt the sadness in his voice increase. "Before Brom died he left a memory telling me about himself with Saphira so that I could know who my father was when I grew up. Oromis was there when Saphira showed me, and he did the same thing for you. Would you like to see the memory? I do warn you, it is very personal."

Arya nodded dumbly, shocked that Oromis had done something so kind for her. She felt Eragon press against her mind, and she immediately lowered her barriers, granting him access to her thoughts.

_Her world faded to black and was replaced by Eragon's own senses. Before her sat Oromis. He, Eragon, and the two dragons seemed to be in a glade somewhere near the edge of Du Weldenvarden. The ancient Rider leaned against his dragon and stared her, or Eragon, directly in the eyes. He began by saying, "Arya, where do I begin?" He sighed. "If you are seeing this memory, it means that I have fallen. I saw what Brom did for Eragon through Saphira and knew that I would regret it if I didn't do the same for you."_

"_You were like a daughter to me. We may have only spoken a few times each year, but I was happy to be able to help you out and give you advice when you needed it. I imagine Eragon has already told you about the Eldunarí and that Glaedr entrusted his heart to him and Saphira. As such, Glaedr will still be around if you need counsel or comfort, although if I have died I'm not quite sure how long it could be before he moves past the pain."_

_Oromis glanced up and a frown formed on his face. "It seems it is time for Eragon and I to be off. I meant for this to be something more, and if I have a chance I'll add to this at another time, but for now I'll leave you with two pieces of advice." Oromis cleared his throat. "In Ellesméra you came to me and asked what the death of Faolin meant, what it would mean for you and your future. I know you believed strongly that you and he were destined to be together, but fate had a different idea of how the events should play out. You are fortunate, though. There are many more opportunities for happiness. Just because you love someone or think you love them does not mean you cannot move on if they die." _

_Oromis stood up and began gathering a few things around him in preparation to leave. "One of your greatest strengths is your ability to push aside all emotions and focus on the task at hand, but it is also one of you greatest weaknesses. You can't ignore your feelings forever. Eventually they are going to catch up with you; eventually you will have to face them. My second piece of advice is that you do not try to do that alone. Do not be afraid to seek comfort from someone close to you." Oromis fastened a pack to Glaedr's saddlebag and Eragon got up in preparation to mount Saphira. "Goodbye, Arya." _

Arya slowly opened her eyes. She wiped away the few tears that had escaped from them, doing her best not to cry for her friends. She stared at the sea laid out before with an odd sense of comfort. After a moment she realized that she had unconsciously grasped Eragon's hand. She made to pull away, but hesitated. Something about the connection felt oddly comforting and secure.

Saphira returned a few moments later and curled up next to them, resting her head so that she had a clear view of the sea. Together the three of them sat in silence for the better part of the day, simply finding comfort from each others' presence.

A few hours later, when the sun was barely still above the horizon, Eragon finally stirred and said, "Nasuada did say that your mother wanted to talk to both of us. We should probably contact her before it gets too late." She simply nodded in approval, unsure of what exactly her mother wanted with them.

Eragon pulled out a small mirror and muttered the scrying words, adding the extra lines to include sound. The mirror faded to a picture of a group of eight elves sitting around a table, all of which Arya recognized as her mother's advisers. Her mother was at the head of the table speaking about who would be the best to lead the humans that wished to join the elvish forces.

When the queen noticed Eragon and Arya in the mirror she stopped mid sentence and immediately began the traditional elvish greetings, first with Eragon and then with Arya, showing her respect for them by speaking first.

Before Islanzadí could speak again Eragon said apologetically, "I hope we aren't interrupting anything…"

Islanzadí waved her hand dismissively. "No, we were just going over a few things. Actually," she placed her hand on her chin as she apparently thought of an idea. "Maybe you could offer your input on how we could best manage the humans in Gil'ead. They have been rather hostile to us, even the ones opposed to Galbatorix."

Eragon shifted slightly, indicating his nervousness. "I'm not sure. I grew up in a small village not populated by the types of people that live in a major city such as Gil'ead. I suppose the best thing I could recommend would be that you do your best to make it clear that your people are there for their benefit and don't have any sort of malicious or imperialistic intent. They will probably cooperate much more willingly with anything you might need if they understand that. Most humans, at least the ones I knew, only know elves as the fair folk. Galbatorix, as I'm sure you know, spread rumors around the Empire of how you supposedly are and the average person would likely believe them. You should try to show them otherwise."

Arya said, "I would add that the humans that wish to join you could prove to be an important symbol, a symbol that it isn't just a bunch of foreign folk that are willing to stand up to Galbatorix. The more allies we make now the easier it will be to make more in the future."

"Well spoken," Queen Islanzadí complimented. "We shall take your advice into consideration, thank you."

"Was there anything else you needed?" Arya asked. "Nasuada informed both of us that you wished for us to contact you today."

"Ah, yes." The queen gestured to her guests and said, "Give us the room please." The elves quickly got up and made their way out the overly large tent. Once everyone was gone Islanzadí approached the mirror and said, more to Arya than to Eragon, "I was wondering how you were doing after the deaths of Oromis and Glaedr."

Arya flicked her eyes to Eragon quickly and before she could speak he said, "I could leave if you wish."

"No, it's fine." Arya paused for a moment to decide precisely what she would tell her mother. Their relationship was complicated. Publicly they had reconciled, but personally she still wasn't sure about whether or not she had forgiven her mother and if she was really interested in re-bonding as a family.

Arya decided to keep it brief but still leave an opportunity for her mother to respond properly. "It has been…difficult. I spoke to Oromis when I returned home with the egg each year. We had become friends. I suppose I'll be fine, though. I'm no stranger to losing people that I care about." She was aware of Eragon's eyes widen slightly at her words, mostly because of how sharp her tone was.

Arya watched with interest as her mother's eyes softened and she thought she could make out a hint of regret in them. "I am sorry, Arya. I never was that close to him, but I did know that he was a good person and he always told me positive things about you when we did speak. I am actually quite relieved that you managed to confide in him, at least while I've been….away." Arya inclined her head in response.

When no other response was forthcoming from Arya Islanzadí added, "Since his and Faolin's passing do you have anyone left that you can confide in?" A second later the queen added quickly, "You can always come to me if you want. Although, by the look on your face I doubt that is very likely right now."

Arya nodded, acknowledging her mother's offer, but also confirming that it was not a possibility at the time. She said, "I do have two people left, but that is all."

Islanzadí frowned, and then asked, "If you don't mind me asking, who?"

Arya glanced to her side, where Eragon was listening quietly, not interfering in their conversation at all. She smiled at him slightly and said, "Eragon and Saphira."

"Good," the queen replied, almost appearing relieved. "At least I can rest with the knowledge you will have the logic and wisdom of a dragon and Rider at hand." Islanzadí paused, glancing down briefly before asking, "What must I do to prove to you that I regret how I acted, that I was wrong?"

For the first time Arya actually felt that her mother was sincere about trying to mend their relationship. Still, she held back and only said, "Perhaps when next we meet we could discuss it."

"You could die before then," the queen retorted. "Or I could. I don't want you to die thinking that I don't love you, and I don't want to die without fixing my mistake."

"It's not that simple," was Arya's only response.

Islanzadí let out a long, defeated sigh. She turned to Eragon and said, "It seems that my daughter has put her trust exclusively in you and Saphira, and thus the responsibility to protect her falls upon you."

Eragon's eyes widened and Arya said thickly, "I am not some human female in need of protection."

"I don't expect Eragon to guard you with a sword. I just want him to keep an eye out and do his best to make sure you return to me alive. Is that acceptable, Eragon?"

Arya clamped her mouth shut and turned to Eragon, waiting for his reply. He said slowly, nervously, "Arya is wise. I would not see her harmed, but if she set her mind to something there would be little I could do to stop her. I'll do my best to make sure she is safe though."

Islanzadí laughed softly. "Trust me, if anyone understands how tenacious Arya is, it would be me." She waved her hand dismissively, changing the topic. "In any event I am sending an extra six elves to join your guard, Eragon. I'm also redefining their purpose to guard not only you and Saphira, but Arya as well."

"Is that really necessary?" Arya demanded.

"Yes. It would help ease my mind about your safety. At least do this for me," Islanzadí insisted.

"Very well," Arya grumbled. "If it puts you at ease I will agree to it."

Islanzadí stared at Arya for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not to pursue the topic any further. Arya was relieved when she did not and instead said, "I am going to proceed with this meeting that we were conducting here. Thank you for contacting me. Stay well Arya, and you too Eragon. Please convey that to Saphira as well."

"May the stars watch over you," Arya responded.

"And peace live in your heart," Eragon added.

Islanzadí broke the contact and the mirror faded back to its original reflective surface, replacing the image of Islanzadí with her sitting next to Eragon. She studied his reflection for a moment, noting his uncertain expression.

She sighed and turned towards him. "I just don't know what to think about her."

"She seemed sincere to me," he said slowly.

"Yes, but I'm just not sure whether or not I want to have a relationship with her again. Our previous one didn't work out too well."

Eragon frowned at her. "I know this isn't about me, but I never got to know my mother. I never got to see her or talk to her. I don't think you truly understand how lucky you are to have a second chance with her." 

Arya tilted her head slightly, thinking through his words. She hadn't considered it from his point of view, the point of view of someone who didn't even have a mother to think about having a relationship with. She nodded, trying to imagine what it would have been like for her if she had grown up without her mother. "Perhaps you are right."

Saphira stood up and yawned beside them. Eragon smiled at her and asked, "Are you ready to return to the Varden? You look like you're about to fall asleep, Saphira."

_Yes. The flight here was quite exhausting, and I haven't really gotten a chance to rest since the battle. _Arya was acutely aware of how Saphira and Eragon allowed her into their thoughts when they were having a mental conversation. The level of trust that the action revealed was quite high, and she was grateful for it.

Eragon and Arya stood up a moment later, brushing the dirt off their clothes and stretching their legs. Arya took one last look out over the cliff as Eragon climbed into the saddle before joining him on Saphira's back.

Saphira quickly ferried them back to Feinster and began to circle the city at a low altitude, searching for their bodyguards as they didn't know where Nasuada had decided to set up their tent. Arya noticed Eragon shift slightly and only then did she realize that she had been pushed out of his and Saphira's minds. _They must be having a private conversation, _she concluded. _But about what?_

Arya tightened her grip on Eragon as Saphira abruptly jerked to the side and began to dive downward towards the castle courtyard. Only then did Arya notice the twelve elves standing next to a group of tents. Saphira landed in a clearing beside a sapphire blue tent that was pitched directly next to an identical emerald green one. Arya concluded that the elves had already been informed of their new goal to protect not only Eragon and Saphira, but her as well.

Eragon dismounted and then extended a hand to help her down. She smiled at him and jumped down on her own, embarrassing herself slightly as she landed at an awkward angle and almost lost her balance. Eragon just shook his head and turned to Blödhgarm. The fur-covered elf said with a hint of irritation, "Shadeslayer, you must stop vanishing without explanation. We will gladly honor your desire for privacy, but it is important that we know where you are in case something happens or we need you."

"I'm sorry, Blödhgarm. I know I told you in the battle that I would stop forgetting. I'm still not used to having guards all the time. We'll do our best to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Blödhgarm nodded in response but didn't respond verbally. Arya took the opportunity to say, "I see that my mother has already informed you of her wish for you to guard me judging by my tent being pitched next to Eragon's. Did she also tell you about the six other elves that will be joining you?"

"She did. We are honored to be able to guard not one, but two Shadeslayers and a magnificent dragon." Arya inclined her head, privately doubting that she would ever get used to being called a Shadeslayer.

As Blödhgarm walked away to rejoin the other elves, Arya turned to Eragon and bade him goodnight. They stared into each others' eyes for a full minute, and then she hesitantly turned around, making ready to leave. However, instead of walking towards her tent, she found herself turning back to Eragon. "I'm glad you're back, Eragon." She pulled him into a light embrace, and then hurriedly returned to her tent, a faint smile on her face and a sense of satisfaction in her thoughts.

Arya walked into her tent and examined her surroundings to see if everything was in order. She widened her eyes as she noticed that there was a real bed in the tent for a change. The last time she had slept in a real bed was back in Ellesméra. She plopped on the bed and sighed in relief when she felt how soft the mattress was. Normally she would change out of her day clothes and put on something lighter to sleep in, but at that moment she didn't feel like getting up and walking over to her bag so she just kicked off her leggings and slipped out of her shirt.

Arya tucked herself under her blanket and closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep. She faded into her dream world thinking about how much she had enjoyed spending her day with Eragon on the cliff.

It had been quite some time since she had felt happy spending her time with someone.


	2. Chapter 2: Glimmer of Hope

Chapter 2: Glimmer of Hope

Eragon stood outside of his tent conversing with Saphira. It was early in the morning, but a messenger had arrived just a moment before and requested his, Saphira's, Arya's, and even Roran's presence at a meeting that was to be held within the hour. He had grumbled to Saphira about how he had wanted to go and visit Roran to catch up, not meet him in the castle for a war meeting that was likely to put him back to sleep. If there was one flaw in Nasuada's leadership, it was that she clearly did not know how to conduct a semi-interesting meeting.

In his mind Saphira said, _The meeting will start within the hour. I'm going to fly around until you and Arya are ready. _

_Enjoy yourself. I suppose I'll wake Arya up. _He scratched his head and looked back towards the entrance of her tent. _It's strange that she isn't up yet. She is usually awake before me._

_It must be a conspiracy. She has decided to rest for once, _Saphira said sarcastically. With a snort, she jumped into the sky and soared in a massive loop high above, showing off her talents to those who were awake at the early hour.

Eragon shook his head and walked over to Arya's tent. He knocked on the pole, but received no response. He glanced to either side, and then entered uncertainly.

The inside of her tent was identical to his own except for the sleeping elf lying in the bed. What surprised him, however, was the fact that Arya was twisting and turning in her sleep. She was either having a very unhappy dream, or a nightmare. He approached her cautiously and gently shook her shoulder.

Arya instantly reacted, whipping a dagger from beneath her pillow and slicing at Eragon. He caught her wrist effortlessly, perturbed by her violent reaction. Her arm shook briefly in his grip, attempting to free itself, but then it went limp as he met her gaze.

Eragon took the dagger from her now loose grip, examining the blade. The dagger was long and narrow with an elegantly shaped curve in the blade. The craftsmanship was unmistakably elvish. "Nice," he said, handing it back to her hilt first.

Arya accepted her weapon, looking rather embarrassed as she did so. "I apologize for my actions. I thought you were someone else."

"Who were you expecting?"

Eragon noted how Arya closed her eyes to keep from laughing at his joke. It was evident that she was hiding something from him. Continuing as if he hadn't asked anything, she said, "You startled me, that's all."

"Arya, you were twisting and turning in your sleep. Are you sure you're alright?"

Her lips curved in a faint smile. "Yes, now. Even elves have bad dreams sometimes."

_She's hiding something, _Eragon muttered to Saphira.

_And you're not likely to learn what it is right now. Remember, you are there on a mission._

_Ah, yes. Almost getting stabbed has a way of making you forget such things._

He gave Arya a nod in response to her half-truth, and then said, "Nasuada called for a meeting. I'm not sure why she decided to hold it so early, but we should be on our way." Arya yawned widely, nodding as she did so. The sight was so odd, especially for her, that he had to ask, "Is anything wrong? You normally don't sleep in at all."

"Well, I didn't sleep yesterday." She eyed him oddly. "Neither did you, aren't you tired?"

He shrugged. "I don't sleep much anymore, a few hours a night if I'm lucky."

"Are you alright?" the concern was evident in her tone.

With a nod he said, "Come, we can discuss our sleeping habits later. Nasuada is waiting." He could tell that she wanted to pursue the topic, but she let it go, probably because he had let the topic of her nightmare go. 

Arya motioned to the leggings and shirt on the floor beside the bed. "If you could give me a moment to get dressed…" Eragon's cheeks flushed red. He hadn't realized that Arya was only in her undergarments. In all previous occasions she had slept with something more concealing on. He quickly excused himself and left the tent, waiting outside patiently.

It took her only a moment to emerge from the tent wearing her normal black leather. Eragon nodded at her, and they began walking towards the castle's entrance, which was only several paces from their tents. Blödhgarm and two other elves accompanied him and Arya, while the other nine stood guard outside the building and near the tents.

They arrived at the main room of the castle and exchanged glances, both remembering what had happened the day before. The Nighthawks let them into Nasuada's chamber without a word. Inside there was a large circular table with several people sitting around it. Amongst them Eragon recognized King Orrin, Roran, Nar Garzhvog, and Jörmundur. There were several other human advisers and a second Urgal that he did not recognize. Queen Islanzadi and King Orik were displayed in mirrors at the end of the table.

The room grew quiet as he and Arya entered. There were only two empty chairs remaining, one to the right of Nasuada and one beside the first. He quickly made his way to his chair, doing his best to ignore the gazes of everyone in the room. Eragon sat down just as Saphira landed in the massive hole in the wall. _Maybe that's why Nasuada picked this room for her meetings, _he thought. _There is already an opening for Saphira._

__Saphira crawled into the room slowly and settled behind Eragon. As she folded her wings she clipped Arya on the back as the elf was trying to sit next to Eragon, knocking her into his lap. He quickly helped her up, doing his best to appear emotionless about the situation. In his mind he heard the echo of Saphira's thoughts, _Oops, sorry Arya._

Nasuada didn't give Arya a chance to respond, and instead said, "Now that we are all here we can begin." Eragon leaned back in his chair, fighting the urge to yawn. From the hole in the wall he noticed that the sun was just barely creeping over the horizon and bringing light to the world. "I think it would be a good idea to summarize our recent battle, as we have yet to confirm or deny any of the rumors that surround what occurred yesterday morning."

(Time Skip)**

Eragon yawned and stretched his arms above his head. He was standing outside the castle with Roran and Arya. His guards were a few paces away chatting amongst themselves. The morning meeting had just ended after several long hours of strenuous deliberations.

"You know, you should try to act a bit more interested next time. I think Nasuada was frustrated with you," said Arya with a frown.

He smiled at her. "Acting more interested wouldn't affect how boring it is, so I don't see the point. At least she knows where I stand." He noticed her expression change from a frown to a small smile.

Her mood soured a moment later and she looked down. "I need to go contact the Queen and talk to her about the Shade…and Oromis and Glaedr's deaths." She turned and started to walk away. Eragon wasn't sure if it happened on purpose, or if it was an accident, but her hand caught his. She paused. A moment later she continued walking, her hand dropping to her side.

Roran approached Eragon as he watched her go. He murmured, "Is she alright? She seemed sadder than usual."

"She was close to Oromis and Glaedr," said Eragon. During the meeting he and Arya had been forced to recount the tale of how they fought Varaug, and he had also been forced to discuss Oromis and Glaedr. Apart from that, only two other things were decided. The Varden would take Belatona before winter and wait in the city for the weather to pass. There was also going to be a celebration the following evening to boost morale and celebrate the victory at Feinster.

He returned to himself as Roran placed a hand on his shoulder. He asked, "Do you have a few minutes to spare?"

"Of course," Eragon replied. "What do you need?"

"Katrina and I wanted to talk to you about something. She'll be at our tent preparing."

_Do you mind? _Eragon asked Saphira. _I know we didn't get to fly together yesterday._

_We can fly after, as long as this is as fast as Roran has made it out to be._

"Alright, let's go."

Roran led Eragon out of the castle, through the city, and to the Carvahall section of the Varden's camp. Saphira trudged along next to Eragon, their guards following a discreet distance behind.

They walked mostly in silence, although Eragon and Roran did exchange a few words about the meeting. He was pleased to learn that Roran was equally bored by the proceedings, although he didn't show it nearly as much as Eragon did.

When they arrived at the Carvahall tents, Eragon found himself greeting many of his childhood acquaintances. He even had to refuse several offers to dine or hunt.

Katrina was attempting to muscle a long table into an upright position as they arrived at Roran's tent. The table was far too large for her...or any human to move. He walked past Roran, placed a hand beside where Katrina was heaving, and effortlessly flipped the solid wood table, causing a slight tremor in the nearby ground as it landed.

The golden haired woman spun around in shock. Her expression relaxed as she realized it was Eragon that had assisted her.

She smiled at Eragon, and gave Roran a quick hug and a kiss before turning back to Eragon and saying, "Thank you, Eragon. That blasted thing wouldn't budge for me."

Eragon twisted his hand over his sternum. "Anytime."

"What does that mean?" Katrina asked, referring to the gesture he had made.

Eragon shrugged. "It's an elvish courtesy gesture, symbolic for loyalty. Arya taught me it when we traveled to Ellesméra so that I wouldn't appear like an idiot before the Queen, but it also has many less formal applications."

"I see." Katrina shook her head like a dog trying to rid itself of a flee. "Never mind that; I had Roran bring you here because we had an idea while you were away and wanted to do it as soon as we had time when you returned."

"Do tell."

"A few months ago, Nasuada held a dinner for you with some of your friends. We had the idea to do the same, except with all of Carvahall. We really don't get to see you much anymore."

Eragon gave her a smile. "That would be wonderful. I have a difficult time finding ways to spend time with my old friends due to how...different I am now. This sounds like a perfect idea."

Katrina clapped her hands. "Good, good, because I already started the preparations. Be here tonight before sundown."

"Tonight!" Eragon exclaimed.

"Well yes, is that a problem?"

"No, no," Eragon said quickly. "I just thought it would take longer to prepare, and it is quite sudden."

Katrina winked at him. "As I said, we've been planning it for some time. The other women of the village are going to help."

"I'd like to help out as well," he offered.

_No you wouldn't, _Saphira corrected in his thoughts. _We are flying today. What you do this evening is up to you._

Eragon laughed. "Sorry, disregard that. Saphira is insistent that we fly today."

"Do not trouble yourself. Everything shall be prepared by sundown. All I need of you is a list of anyone extra you plan to invite. Goodness knows you must have made a few friends since leaving us."

He laughed. "Not as many as you might think. I've realized an ugly truth about growing more powerful and influential."

"Which is?" Roran asked after Eragon did not continue.

With a sigh, he said, "You have those who wish to use you, and those you wish to use. Friends are a rarity."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Katrina said.

Eragon shook his head, laughing. "Don't be. The upside is that when you do make friends, they are good friends."

"And which of these good friends will be coming..." she prompted.

"All of my guards will be present one way or another. I'd much prefer them to attend as guests, as I consider them all to be friends at this point."

"We would be honored," Blödhgarm said with a bow, speaking for all the elves. Eragon gave him a nod.

"Also, I'd like to invite Jeod and Helen, who you obviously know. Other than that, there's just Nasuada and Arya."

"Nasuada?" Katrina asked. Eragon noted that she spoke the name angrily, as if she had a grudge with the leader of the Varden.

"If that's a problem-"

"No," Roran jumped in. "Just a bit unexpected."

"Enough chit-chat," Katrina demanded. "Roran, come. We have lots of work to do to set up for this. Eragon, we can take care of inviting Jeod and Nasuada if you can take care of Arya. I doubt she'd accept a visit from any of us in the first place."

Eragon chuckled. "Alright, and have I remembered to thank you for being so kind?"

Katrina smiled. "No need to thank family, now go!"

"Wait!" Roran insisted. "I have one more issue for you, Eragon." Eragon gestured for him to continue. "Out of all the villagers, I'm the only one that has seen you fight since you became a Rider, and that wasn't even with a sword. Frankly, the villagers are curious to see how proficient you truly are. Stories have been told about your epic duel with Arya in Farthen Dûr, which was before you even were changed into an elf. Could you fight her again? In front of the village?"

Eragon hesitated. He wasn't sure if Arya would even agree to come to the feast. He said, "I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do. If she doesn't come I can duel one of my guards."

"Thank you," Roran said, looking excited. "Go on, I know you have things to do. Be back here in a few hours and we'll have everything ready."

Eragon almost laughed at how she and Roran hurried him away, along with Saphira. Before he left he turned to Blödhgarm and said, "I'm going to go inform Arya, and then spend the day flying with Saphira. I know I can't order you to, but if you don't mind could you and the other elves help out Roran and Katrina if they need it?" Blödhgarm nodded, his mane rippling.

As Eragon and Saphira walked away from the scene, she said in his mind. _This sounds like it could be fun._

_Of course, I haven't really had the chance to see my old friends or even acquaintances since we fled Carvahall. This should be a good way to take my mind off of Oromis and Glaedr._

_There had better be enough meat for me._

_I'm sure the elves will attend to it._

_And mead too._

Eragon shook his head.

It didn't take long before he found himself standing outside Arya's tent. He rapped his knuckles on the middle support post. "Who is it?" came her musical voice from inside.

"Eragon."

"Come in." He pushed the flap aside and walked inside. The tent hadn't changed at all since that morning, except that Arya was awake and sitting up on her bed, weaving a small basket. "What is it, Eragon? I didn't expect to see you again until later today or tomorrow." Her raven her was blocking his view of her face, so he couldn't gauge her mood properly.

"Roran and Katrina are having a feast with the village of Carvahall and I came to invite you."

She set the basket aside and stood up to face him. With a hint of a smile she said, "I'll come on one condition. I do not know any of your friends, so I'd appreciate being seated next to you or your guard." She hesitated. "_Our_ guards."

Eragon laughed softly. "Of course, Arya. There was…one other thing." She motioned for him to continue. "Roran wants us to duel, as we did in Farthen Dûr, so that the villagers can see how powerful I have become. I've wanted a rematch with you for some time anyway, so it works out perfectly."

"I accept, of course. I have wanted to test myself against your abilities as an elf. I expect the outcome will still be the same, but maybe you'll put up a better fight this time," she teased.

"You might be surprised," said Eragon. "In any event I am going to fly with Saphira for the day until the feast starts. If you want, Saphira and I can fly by and pick you up on our way there." 

"That would be fine. Have a good time," she said absentmindedly, clearly thinking about something else.

Eragon exited her tent and let the flap fall closed behind him. Saphira landed in front of him gracefully. The suns rays reflected off of her shining scales, making it seem like she was almost glowing. Smiling at her radiance, Eragon quickly strapped himself into the saddle.

The moment he was secured, Saphira leaped into the sky, flapping furiously to gain altitude quickly. She banked to the side and began a slow spiral downward, breaking out of it after a few revolutions.

Eragon reveled in the experience of flying as Saphira performed her aerial acrobatics. Together they were the ultimate rulers of the sky, free to do whatever they wanted. He took the opportunity to speak with Saphira about all that had happened in the past few days. During their conversation Saphira made an intriguing observation. _But, _she said, _Vrael and the other lead riders did not use the Eldunarí to enhance their own strength, yet they were many times stronger than the average rider. How is it that they were so powerful?_

_Wouldn't Oromis have told us about how they were so powerful? It seems to me that the stronger riders ended up with higher ranks in the order._

_Mm, _Saphira agreed. _What if it was something that even Oromis didn't know of? We can be fairly certain that Galbatorix's source of power is indeed the hearts of dragons, so if such a power exists he has no knowledge of it either. _

_Perhaps it was known by only the leader of the riders? _Eragon suggested.

_If that's true we should ask Glaedr about it when he comes around. He might not know exactly what it is, but he could help us find it. _

_I agree. It seems as if we might have discovered a possible way to grow stronger. Assuming that this power exists, if we could but find it we may be able to match Galbatorix on the field of battle. _

_I look forward to the day, but take care not to get your hopes up too much. It could very well just be exactly like you said; the stronger riders were given more prominent positions, _cautioned Saphira.

_True, _Eragon said, some of the excitement fading from his voice. Saphira did a shallow dive down towards the Varden and glided low over the city, allowing her presence to be known and appreciated.

As she reached the outskirts Eragon noticed that Roran and Katrina had nearly finished setting up the feast with the help of their guards. He also noticed that the sun was quickly beginning to fade into the horizon. _One more dive? _He asked Saphira.

She roared enthusiastically.


	3. Chapter 3: Feast With Friends

Chapter 3: Feast With Friends

Eragon walked the short distance from where Saphira had landed to where the feast was being held. She padded along next to him.

He had expected to pick up Arya at her tent, but was unable to find her. _I hope she is still coming._

_Perhaps something came up, _Saphira suggested, trying to be optimistic, but after studying her emotions for a moment Eragon was easily able to determine that she was doubtful of the elf's attendance.

He sighed, walking under a makeshift arch that served as an entrance for a crudely fenced off area. That had perhaps twenty long tables lined up in rows. Three tables were lined up perpendicularly to the others to serve as a place for the food to rest. It was clearly a serve yourself type of feast.

Eragon recognized Thane standing at the door with a list of names. He had never known that Thane had known how to read. The ability was uncommon in Carvahall.

Thane waved Eragon through without any hesitation, looking excited for his opportunity to spend time with the rider. Eragon smiled at him as he walked by, but Thane didn't manage to return the smile because a look of mortification appeared on his face as Saphira clambered over the fencing, doing her best to not disturb any of the posts. Surprisingly, she succeeded, and they continued towards the tables, leaving a relived Thane behind them.

As Eragon walked past the first couple rows of tables, he realized that there were perhaps eight tables missing in the center, forming a large square sparring ring. The eight tables that would normally fill the space were shoved together in the corner of the clearing. Eragon was unsure of whether or not they were going to be moved into the center after the duel or if they would just be left in the corner.

Katrina finally hurried over to Eragon and ushered him over to his seat. It was at one of the center tables, probably so all of the villagers could have an easier time interacting with him. He noticed most of his guards and a fair number of villagers already seated around the other tables. Acknowledging Blödhgarm with a brief nod, Eragon settled into his seat.

Fifteen minutes later the rest of the villagers had arrived and Eragon was still glancing around hoping to find Arya. Roran came up to him and sat down in his seat, which was to Eragon's left. He gestured at the empty seat to Eragon's right and asked, "Is she coming?"

Eragon shrugged. "Elves are difficult to predict, even for me." He sighed, standing up slowly and facing Blödhgarm. "I'll go ask Blödhgarm to find a replacement."

He started walking away, but Roran touched his shoulder gently and said, "Maybe that won't be necessary."

Eragon turned around and saw Arya walking through the entrance. She looked as beautiful as ever, but her raven hair was tied behind her head so that it didn't get in the way when she fought.

She gave Eragon a small smile when she reached him, and then apologized for her tardiness, but she didn't give a reason for it. She said, "Eragon, I would like to duel you now instead of after we eat. That way we can get it out of the way and enjoy the rest of the evening."

"Very well, I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he replied, fingering the hilt of Brisingr.

Roran glanced around, ascertaining whether or not the villagers were as ready as Eragon and Arya were. Eragon noted that most of them were in the process of procuring food from the main three tables. Roughly a third of them were already seated.

Apparently Roran was satisfied, for he climbed up onto the nearest table and called for everyone's attention. "Thank you all for coming. It has been a long time since we have had the chance to hold a feast like this, so let's make the best of tonight." The crowd voiced their approval for his introduction by clapping enthusiastically. "With that in mind, it occurred to me that while we, the villagers of Carvahall, have been thrust into a world with magic, dragons, and supernatural beings, we do not really understand these phenomenons. When I first was reunited with my cousin, Eragon, on the Burning Planes, I was shocked by his change of appearance. What was even more surprising was the power and skill he displayed while we hunted the Ra'zac at Helgrind. It was because of this that I asked him if he could display that power for all of you to see, so you might understand some of the changes he has been through and just what he is capable of now. I would duel him myself, but he is far beyond my own skill. Instead, Eragon will duel one of his friends, Arya, both of whom have earned the title of Shadeslayer." There was a roar of approval from the crowd. People immediately cleared the space in the center for Arya and Eragon.

Eragon watched Arya unsheathe her sword and guard its edge. While she did so, he shouted for all to hear. "Swordsmanship is only one of the qualities that I have developed. For safety reasons, Arya and I will not be using any magic in this duel." There were a few boos and dissatisfied expressions, but Eragon did not really pay any attention to them. He was not about to risk Arya's safety just to show off his magical skills.

_Acquit yourself well, Eragon. Humans are fickle, and I have a feeling you'll suffer if you do not live up to their expectations._

_I know, thank you Saphira, _he said, taking his place on the opposite side of the ring as Arya.

Most of the villagers had taken their seats and were waiting in quiet anticipation for the duel to start.

Eragon put the villagers out of his mind and focused only on Arya. He was unsure of her exact level of skill with the sword, as she had been holding back during their fight in Farthen Dûr, and he never paid attention during battles, as he was too busy focusing on his own strikes.

After taking a long breath he drew his sword and held it at his side with the point facing down, mirroring what Arya had done moments before. He wasted no time staring and immediately rushed forward, clashing blades with Arya near the center of the ring.

Their initial strikes were powerful, but neither of them devoted their full strength to the blows. As such, Arya shoved Eragon back a few inches with her strike and immediately followed with a slash at his chest. Eragon instinctively parried, and then dodged Arya's improvised slash at his waist.

He retaliated with a low strike, forcing Arya off her balance and closer to the ground. When it was blocked he pulled his sword back and immediately stabbed forward, taking careful note of when he needed to stop his sword to avoid actually stabbing Arya.

If he hadn't held back, Arya would have lost the fight then and there, but his action of slowing down the sword gave Arya just enough time to knock his blade aside.

They mirrored each other for a few moments, and then each executed powerful strikes across the chest. Their blades locked together, and they were forced to stare into each others' eyes. Eragon could see gratitude in Arya's emerald green eyes. She knew that his stab would have hit if he didn't hold back. He also saw a fire in her eyes unlike any he had seen before. It seemed as if that near-fatal blow had awakened something in her that brought out her more competitive side.

She broke contact and attacked with a series of lightning quick slashes. Eragon had trouble keeping up and actually missed blocking one of the slashes to his chest. While it wasn't a fatal wound, he did receive a bruise on his side for his mistake.

The wound brought a rush of adrenaline and he countered Arya's series of strikes with a set of his own, pushing her back almost to the edge of the ring. She circled around him and retreated to the center, and then rushed at him again. A flare ran the length of Brisingr for a split second, unbidden by any command from Eragon. He countered her rush and put his full force behind his stroke.

Their swords clashed and it seemed as if they were equal for a moment, but suddenly something changed. Eragon's sword had enchantments beyond any other blade. Those enchantments helped it slice Arya's in half, shocking the crowd and both of them.

He was unable to stop his sword before it cut through Arya's upper arm, but he did manage to stop it before it cut through a bone. Arya yelped in pain and Eragon hurriedly dropped Brisingr, grasping her arm tightly to reduce the bleeding while he determined which words to heal her with. It did not take him long to decide, and he quickly began healing her wound. His guards rushed towards them as well and helped with his effort to heal her. One of them placed her hand on Eragon's side and healed his minor injury.

Several minutes later, and after spending copious amount of energy, Eragon released his magic and locked eyes with Arya. There was no anger in them, but only confusion. Roran had approached as well and as soon as Arya was healed he shouted to the onlookers, most of which had been murmuring to each other the entire time. "They are both alright! I'm not sure how Eragon cut through her sword, but I am sure it was an accident." Roran hesitated and glanced at Arya, and then added, "Let's start this feast. We'll call the duel a draw."

"You won," Arya whispered to Eragon amongst all the commotion in the background.

He shook his head. "Maybe I did, but it wasn't in a way that was fair."

"How _did_ you do that?" Blödhgarm questioned.

Eragon shrugged. "Apparently the spells Rhunön placed on my sword are more powerful than I had realized. I have done this to humans before, but never to an enchanted blade."

Arya turned to Blödhgarm and asked, "Blödhgarm, could you and a few of the other elves repair my sword?"

"Of course," Blödhgarm said with a bow. "We'll contact Rhunön for precise instructions after this feast. Is that acceptable?"

Arya nodded. She began walking back to the tables that the villagers were setting up, but she stumbled and almost fell. Eragon caught her arm and smiled at her. "Lightheaded?" he asked.

She smiled back after a second. "No thanks to you."

Eragon walked with her back to the tables, keeping a light grip on her so she didn't fall. "That's really not necessary,' Arya said after a few successful steps. He shrugged and released her, only to have her stumble again four steps later. Eragon held his hand out again, and this time Arya just shrugged with embarrassment.

"You just need some food," Eragon counseled as they sat down at the tables. Nasuada, Roran, Katrina, Horst, Thane, and everyone else at Eragon's table sat down as well. Saphira curled up at the end of the table with an enormous platter of meat in front of her. She seemed perfectly content to ignore the chatter before her and focus only on her meal.

Eragon and the other elves were served immediately. Eragon took careful note of how none of the elves, including himself, received any meat. He mentioned it to Roran and praised his memory. Roran laughed. "How could I forget after our talk at Helgrind? I had hoped by now you would have grown up."

Eragon laughed good-naturedly. "You have your beliefs and I have mine. We can agree to disagree."

Roran chewed a strip of meat before responding. "That doesn't mean I'll ever understand it."

"It is a simple concept," Arya commented. "Elves have no reason to kill an animal for food when we are able to sing anything we need from the plants. It is different with the humans and dwarves."

"What do you mean by singing from plants?" Thane asked, his voice quivering slightly as he asked the elf. It was clear that he was at least partly afraid of Arya.

Eragon grunted. "That took me quite a long time to understand. In simple terms, it is a method of magic to grow a plant a certain way."

"Sounds confusing," Katrina said.

"Isn't anything confusing if you don't understand it?" replied Eragon.

"When did you get so wise?" Horst asked with a chuckle.

In a soft voice Eragon said, "I had good teachers." He shook his head. Eragon could tell that the villagers were curious about his teachers and who they were, but his sad demeanor cautioned them away.

Roran called for the mead to be distributed and after a few minutes the mood at the feast eased and people, including Eragon, started to forget about their tensions and troubles. He started to talk more openly with the villagers, socializing with them as he hadn't managed to do since he had left Carvahall, even during the feast that Nasuada had organized for him.

He told stories of his adventures to those that had not heard them, denied dozens of rumors, and even managed to laugh at some old jokes. Through his bond with Saphira he could feel her happiness as well. The feast was a success.

Nasuada excused herself early, followed quickly by Elain and a score of other villagers who had tasks they needed to accomplish in the morning. The remaining few dozen people moved closer to Eragon's table, for nobody sitting at that table except Nasuada and Elain had left.

Eragon noticed that Thane had been quiet for a time, and it looked like he had a question that he wanted to ask. He mentioned it to the man. Than said, "Hmm, well I wasn't sure if I should ask or not." 

"Go ahead," Eragon encouraged.

"How do you use magic? I have been curious ever since we arrived at the Varden, and long before then, if truth be told."

"Hmm," Eragon mumbled. He glanced around. "A complicated question. Is anyone but Thane interested in this? I'll try to explain it, but it might take some time so I don't want to bore the rest of you." 

"I'd like to know," Horst commented.

"I'd like to see you try to explain it," Arya said with a chuckle.

Jeod and a few others added their interest as well, so Eragon sighed and thought about where to begin. He said, "First of all, to use magic you need a certain innate power, something that has become quite rare in humans. To actually use magic you need to know the words in the Ancient Language to describe what you are doing."

"The Ancient Language?" asked Horst.

"It is the language that the elves speak in. It is impossible to lie in it." 

"I find that hard to believe!" Thane exclaimed.

Eragon closed his eyes, trying to figure out how he could convince them that he spoke the truth. Not finding anything, he sighed and said, "I cannot really explain why that the Ancient Language prevents you from lying, but it has something to do with the Grey Folk, the ancient race that originally harnessed wild magic and bound it to their language."

"What does honesty have to do with magic?" someone asked.

Eragon chuckled. "Nothing, actually. It's just an interesting fact about the language. Regardless, to use magic you need to know the words in the Ancient Language that describe what you want to do. At that point, all you have to do is access the power within yourself and you can use magic."

"That's all there is to it?" Thane demanded.

"At the most basic level, yes. The real challenge is not using magic itself, but learning how to access that power and learning how it works. New Riders were taught magic by being given impossible tasks; stacking rocks with their feet or filling an ever-draining tub with water. Eventually, after long enough, the Riders would become frustrated enough to use magic."

"Could any of us learn by that method?" asked Albreich.

Arya shook her head, taking over for Eragon. "No. The tasks can be used to teach basic magic, but you must already have the gift of magic for them to work. With the Riders it was simple; every Rider can use magic, though to varying degrees of success. They have the dragons to thank for that."

There was silence for a time as the villagers considered what they had learned. Eragon broke it after a moment, a thought occurring to him. "Since you all seem so interested in magic, I feel that I should at least tell you the most important rule when using it, just in case one of you are lucky enough to possess the gift. The number one rule of magic is that spells require energy, and the energy they require is just as much as it would take to do the task the mundane way. If you cast a spell that takes more energy than you possess, it will kill you."

"Then how do you know how large of a spell you can use?" someone asked.

"You don't," Arya said simply.

Eragon smiled, but added, "There are ways of wording your spells so that they can be canceled if they start draining too much energy." He shook his head. "Enough of this talk of magic. Can we not simply enjoy a happy night like we did back in Carvahall?"

Horst winked at Eragon. "In Carvahall you didn't have a dragon, and you didn't have elvish company. But yes, we will do our best." Eragon grinned at Horst.

"If it makes it any easier, I am going to return to my tent," Arya offered.

"So soon?" Eragon asked. He thought he would have the entire evening to enjoy with her.

"I need to rest a bit longer tonight to build up blood, no thanks to you and your sword." She stood up and walked toward the arch. Four of Eragon's guards got up and followed her. Over her shoulder she added, "Have a good night, Eragon."

When she was gone Horst smiled at Eragon and said, "I'm glad you found someone to be with, Eragon." He winked at him. "Someone quite beautiful, I might add."

"Arya and I aren't-" Eragon turned his head to Horst. "You didn't think we were together, did you?"

Roran and Katrina both laughed, and Horst frowned. The smith said, "Well, why aren't you together then? You seem to be happy with each other, and I see the way you look at her."

"I'd prefer to not talk about it."

Roran nudged him. "Why are you so shy tonight, Eragon? I thought you would be enjoying this more than you are." The villagers listened quietly off to the side.

Eragon fingered the hilt of his sword, uncomfortable. "It would be difficult to explain." He glanced up and noticed the look of determination in Roran's eyes. With a sigh he said, "It's no excuse, but I've got a lot on my mind."

"Don't we all," Roran muttered.

Eragon smiled at him. "True. So, why don't you tell me about your Urgal adventure?" Roran grumbled for a minute, but then related the story of his assignment and his fight with Yarbog. Eragon inquired about the scars he mentioned on his back, and when Roran told him what they were from and why Eragon frowned, his eyebrows meeting in a V shape. "Nasuada is fortunate that she left early," he said. "She should have at least talked to me before doing that to you."

Roran shrugged. "It was necessary."

Eragon cast a critical eye at him. "No, it wasn't. She may have made you think that, but it really wasn't."

"I'm inclined to agree with Eragon here," Horst contributed. "You were a hero and she punished you for it."

"She didn't even allow the scars to be healed before he went on his mission," Katrina added.

"What?" Eragon exclaimed. "Roran, take off your shirt."

Roran made to protest, but Eragon silenced him with a glare. When Roran had finished taking off his shirt he turned his back to them, bringing his scars into the light. Several of the villagers murmured to each other at the sight. The scars had partly healed, but they were still large, puffy, and very red. Eragon marveled at how well Roran carried his wound without showing the pain.

Blödhgarm sidled over to Eragon's side to take a look. He murmured to Eragon, "My kin and I were there when this happened, but we were unsure of what to do."

"I don't expect you to go against the leader of the Varden," Eragon replied. "That would be asking too much." Blödhgarm nodded at him in understanding. The elves were present to guard Eragon, not to interfere in the Varden's politics.

"I, on the other hand, have absolutely no problem going against Nasuada," Eragon said dryly. He placed his palm on Roran's back and said, "Waíse heill!"

The villagers watched with amazement as his palm started to glow and undamaged skin began to form below it. Eragon ended up having to take some energy from Saphira's enormous reserves to heal the entire wound, as healing Arya earlier that evening had left him more tired than he was inclined to admit.

Roran spun around when Eragon was done and said, "I appreciate you healing them, but what about Nasuada?"

Eragon shrugged. "The simple solution is that you just don't tell her, and if she finds out on her own tell her to talk to me about it. I'll make sure you don't get punished for this. You've already endured enough."

Katrina smiled at Eragon. She said, "Thank you for healing him, Eragon. He can be so stubborn at times."

"Both of them can be," one of Horst's sons commented with a laugh. Eragon laughed as well, for it was true. When he set his mind to something there was little anyone could say or do to stop him.

"So," Horst said, leaning back in his chair. "What are our plans after this war is done? I'll probably return to Carvahall." Several other villagers added their plans as well, most of which were similar to Horst's. Eragon decided not to tell them about the condition of Carvahall.

"What about you, Eragon?" Thane asked. "What are you going to do after the war?"

Eragon shrugged. "I honestly do not have the slightest clue. There will be so many people asking me for so many things when this war is over."

The conversation moved on, as nobody decided to press Eragon for an answer. They talked about small things for a few hours, before Eragon finally said to Saphira, _I think I'm ready to return to the tents._

_I've been ready for awhile. I ran out of mead quite some time ago._

_We probably shouldn't fly, _Eragon commented, noting the empty barrels of mead next to Saphira. She agreed.

Eragon took his leave of the villagers after thanking them for an evening away from politics and politicians. He and Saphira, accompanied by Blödhgarm and seven other elves, slowly walked back to the tents.

Saphira stumbled several times, causing the elves to move away a few paces and make sure they would not be crushed if she fell. The dragoness snorted when she realized what the elves were doing, but did not otherwise comment, which brought a smile to Eragon's face.

They arrived at their tents, finding an elf on guard by a small fire and a few others sleeping. Arya's tent was closed and Eragon was fairly certain she was asleep as well.

Saphira curled up in front of the tents, near the fire, and fell asleep promptly after wishing Eragon a good night. He made to go to his tent to sleep, but was sure that he wouldn't be able to fall into his waking dreams. There was too much on his mind. He instead took a seat by the fire near his guards, nodding at them as he sat down.

Most of his guards retreated to their dreams, but two stayed awake to watch over him, Saphira, and Arya.

Sometime during the black of night, when even his elven guards had fallen asleep, he heard a crack behind him. He turned around quickly to see Arya walking toward where he was sitting. She was wearing elvish lámarae fabric, a light green tunic with loose pants.

Arya sat down next to him, giving him a small smile. He asked why she was awake, but she turned the question back on him. He sighed, telling her about Horst's question about his future and how it troubled him because he could find no answer. "In the few hours I've spent thinking about it the best thing I have been able to come up with is living on Vroengard with the purpose of rebuilding Doru Araeba."

"That sounds like something you would be happy with," Arya commented.

"I'd be alone, completely alone, except for Saphira." 

"Not necessarily," Arya said, causing Eragon to raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "I would be interested in living there with you." 

Eragon's eyes widened to the point where he almost felt they might pop out of their sockets. He was shocked that Arya would even consider something like that. "Why?" he asked. "Don't get me wrong, I'd love the company, but why?"

Arya gave Eragon an odd look. "Eragon, do you honestly think that I could live in Ellesméra and actually be happy?"

He stared into her eyes for a long moment, and then said, "No."

She nodded. "Too much has happened for me to return to a life as the princess of the elves. Vroengard and the riders have always interested me, so what better way to spend my time than restoring their legacy?"

Eragon smiled. "I'm glad you think so." Even with her seeming willingness to accompany him and Saphira, Eragon did not allow his hopes to rise too far. He understood that the war could change any plans, and that nothing would be set in stone.

They spent some time discussing Vroengard and exactly what it would take to rebuild it, but Eragon quickly grew tired and was forced to excuse himself. For the first time in a few nights Eragon managed to sleep soundly, if only for a few hours. The knowledge that there was at least some hope for his future was comforting.


	4. Chapter 4: Unexpected Threat

Chapter 4: Unexpected Threat

Eragon yawned, swinging his legs over the side of his bed and sitting up. By the light shining through his tent and the relative silence inside the city he knew that it was early morning, meaning he had only slept a few short hours. He considered going back to sleep, but realized that he wasn't actually tired at all.

He slid into his pants that he had left on the ground, and then started to slip his shirt on. A wave of odor caught his attention. He needed a bath. With a sigh he slung the belt of Beloth the Wise around his waist and fastened the clasp. He realized that the fabric covering the gems had slipped off, and he made to unfasten the clasp and put it back on, but hesitated.

The gems shone so beautifully without their cover, and they were a gift to him from Oromis and Glaedr. Why should he hide them? Nobody in their right mind would think to try to steal them from him and it would make him no more of a target in the eyes of the Empire, so why not? Smiling, he clipped Brisingr's sheath to the belt and walked outside.

Saphira was awake. She was curled up in a ball with her eyes open watching the sunrise. He patted her on the head as he walked by and she blinked in response. Her bony eyelids made a faint clicking sound. _I'm going to go bathe, _he told her.

The dragon sniffed the air curiously. _Please do. You'll scare Arya away when she wakes up if you smell like that. _He smiled.

_You're staying here?_

_Yes, I still feel a little tipsy from last night._

Eragon laughed. He scratched behind her ear for a moment before darting back into his tent to grab a bar of soap. After telling Blödhgarm where he was going, and agreeing to a three person escort, he started jogging to a stream he had noticed the day before.

Very few of the Varden were awake, and the ones that were didn't seem interested enough in him to delay him, so it only took him a few minutes to get to the stream.

His guards fanned out amongst the trees several hundred feet away from the stream to give him privacy. Upon arriving he noticed the stream's water was completely clear. He could see the bottom of the stream without any interference.

He found a large rock near the bank and disrobed, leaving his clothes and sword on the rock.

A shiver ran down his spine as he stepped into the stream. The water was ice cold. He quickly pieced together a spell that would increase his body temperature enough so that he wouldn't feel so cold.

Eragon sighed as the spell took effect, making the water seem more pleasant than it really was. He quickly proceeded to wash himself thoroughly, taking note of a small group of women that were doing some laundry down a few hundred feet. His elven eyesight allowed him to see them clearly, but he wasn't sure if they had noticed him.

With a mental shrug, he rinsed himself off and made to return to his clothes, but stopped. The water, made warmer by his spell, was quite relaxing. He decided to float for a time and look up at the clear sky. A moment of relaxation was rare during his time with the Varden.

He floated in the stream for several minutes, before realizing that there would probably be a line of messengers outside of his tent and if he didn't show up they would start looking for him. With a sigh he allowed his legs to sink back into the water and began to move to shore, but paused for a moment when he noticed the group of women standing much closer than before, washing their laundry and watching him at the same time. This time he was accurately able to count their numbers. There were four of them.

Waiting for them to finish and leave would have taken him too long, if they would have even left before seeing him, so he ignored them and walked over to his clothes, drying himself with magic as he walked.

The women began approaching him as he donned his pants, fastening the clasp only as they arrived next to him. He faced away from them, feeling slightly awkward. As he slung the belt of Beloth the Wise around his waist the women gasped at the shining jewels embedded in it. He raised his eyebrows and turned to face them, wondering how long it would take one of them to say something.

Finally, the oldest and most mature looking woman of the group, curtsied and said, "I hope we're not intruding…"

Eragon smiled and said in a sarcastic voice, "No, not at all. I've always found it more comfortable to bathe with eight eyes staring at me." The women giggled, obviously pleased with themselves.

"Was there something that you wanted?" he asked after none of them said anything else.

One of the women pushed the youngest one forward a bit. The girl couldn't have been older than eighteen. She was wearing rather skimpy clothing that exposed most of her legs and part of her stomach. She looked nervous, but as a whole she was quite beautiful. "Go on," the older woman encouraged. "You probably won't get another chance."

"I-I was wondering if you would consider going to the celebration tonight with me," she said, keeping her gaze angled down. "It is tradition for people to go to celebrations with a date, and I heard that you don't have one for tonight."

Eragon mentally sighed. He really hated having to turn the women down, mostly because of how he imagined it made them feel, but he didn't have much of a choice. "Please?" the woman asked, clearly seeing that Eragon was thinking about it.

He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" she asked sourly, still keeping her head down. The other women watched with disapproving expressions.

With one hand he lifted her chin up and looked her in the eyes. "That's not it at all. You are beautiful. There are other reasons I cannot accept."

Eragon could tell she tried to fight the urge to smile, but she couldn't resist his compliment. The woman that had urged her on said, "Could you at least share those reasons with us? We would very much like to know why you have never accepted a date."

After a moment's hesitation, he decided that if he spent a few minutes explaining himself to these four women they would likely gossip with their friends and word would get around, maybe causing less people to approach him. He nodded. "One of the greatest gifts that a Rider receives is also his greatest curse: immortality. I can only die from a sword or an incurable disease. To take a mortal wife every few decades would be a terrible thing to have to live through."

His words seemed to register with the three older women, but the younger one was still persistent. She said, "It would still be better than living alone for all that time, wouldn't it?"

Eragon shook his head. "You forget that elves are immortal as well, even without being Riders. I wouldn't necessarily be alone. I just can't accept a human partner. Believe me, I wish I could. Elves are much more complicated when it comes to love." Seeing how disappointed she was by his statement he clapped her on the shoulder and added, "I'm sorry."

He turned around and picked up his sword, fastening it to his belt. As he made to put his shirt on he felt a cold hand touch his back. With an audible sigh he said softly, "I understand what it feels like to be rejected by someone you love, or think you love."

"Who would reject you?" One of the women asked with a raised eyebrow.

Eragon forced a laugh. "Someone much older, and much wiser…at least at the time." He turned to face the girl, allowing her hand to drop off of his back. "What you want, I cannot give. That will never change. You must accept that." He slid his shirt on and walked away, leaving the women staring at him.

He made no mention of his encounter to his guards on the walk back, but the memory of it weighed heavily on him. It was eerily similar to his and Arya's encounter after the Agaetí Blödhren. Guilt pressed against him for denying the girl the way he did, but he knew that it was the right choice. Why start something that could never last?

When he and his guards arrived back at the tents he conversed with Saphira about what had happened. The dragon's only response was, _If you were having such a hard time getting them to leave I would have happily arranged it for you._

Eragon chuckled, shaking his head. _I'm trying to find a way to solve the situation without alienating the female portion of the Varden. _He noticed the flap to Arya's tent was cracked open, so he glanced around, looking for her. _Where is Arya?_

_A messenger arrived while you were gone and said that Nasuada needed to talk to her about the condition of the elves or something along those lines. He said that your presence would be appreciated, but I had Arya tell him that you would not be attending._

_Why not?_

_Please, Eragon, _Saphira said in an amused tone. _You can easily find time to spend with Arya that __doesn't involve sitting in a meeting. Besides, I have better things to do._

_I'll agree with you on the issue of spending time with Arya, but what else do you have to do, pray tell?_

Saphira snorted and blew a puff of smoke in his general direction. _Many things, but today I was going to go practice a new combat technique. _Eragon was about to ask what she meant when she cut him off. _I'll tell you if it works._

Eragon grunted, recognizing Saphira's pride speaking. She would never want him to know that she had failed at a particular technique. He decided not to pursue the matter until later, as right now it would be a pointless debate. Instead he said, _Well, good luck then. I'll probably spend my day over at the training grounds helping new recruits. I heard that Frederic needs some help._

With a snort Saphira turned her head to look at Blödhgarm, explaining where she was going and denying his request that an elf ride with her. She jumped into the sky and flew south, disappearing on the horizon after a few minutes.

Eragon sighed, hoping she succeeded in whatever it was she was doing. A thought occurred to him as his eyes settled on Blödhgarm, who was standing several feet away. He asked the elf to sit with him near the ashes of the fire from the previous night.

"What do you need, Shadeslayer?" Blödhgarm asked in a soft purr.

"Well," Eragon said, feeling awkward. He had never really asked anyone for advice in this arena before. "I was wondering what you do to keep the humans here from constantly pestering you for romance and such." He paused for a moment, and then explained himself. "I ask because I know of the scent you use that seems to attract females. I know you didn't create it for that purpose, but it has that effect on humans, as I'm sure you know, so I figured you would be the right person to ask about this."

"Ah," Blödhgarm said, looking amused by Eragon's request. "To be perfectly honest with you, I have not had very many women approach me as you describe when you are around, but it does happen when you are traveling around Alagaësia." A smile came to his lips. "My scent may cause some to be attracted to me, but your position of power draws many more, I would think."

Eragon grunted. "I suppose so."

"For me, it is not so difficult. I merely tell them that I am otherwise committed. I have a mate back in Ellesméra"

"You never mentioned her before," Eragon commented.

Blödhgarm shrugged. "I had no reason to, just like you had no reason to mention to me that you have feelings for Arya."'

"Is it really that obvious?" A frown spread across Eragon's face.

With another shrug, causing a ripple to flow through his mane, Blödhgarm said, "Not really, at least not to someone that doesn't spend a great deal of time around you. It has been more noticeable in the last few days. I normally wouldn't offer another elf advice or pry into their affairs, but you don't seem to mind."

Eragon smiled. He was surprised by Blödhgarm's willingness to adapt to the more human way of conversing. "Please, anything you can offer would be appreciated."

"You can use the same excuse I do, just don't tell them who the person you're interested in is. Also, I'd take care in your pursuit of Arya. I won't ask about your current standing, but you should keep an eye out for other elves back home that would potentially consider your relationship an abomination."

"There is no relationship," Eragon said dryly. "We're just friends."

"Mm," was Blödhgarm's only reply. There was a brief uncomfortable silence, but Blödhgarm broke it as he seemed to remember something. "Ah, I almost forgot. Arya asked me to tell you that she wanted you to go with her to the celebration tonight."

Eragon nodded, pleasantly surprised. "Very well, and am I correct in assuming that the elves will match up for this event?"

Blödhgarm shrugged. "If necessary. If you don't mind, I'd like to bring a few of the elves with me to try and repair Arya's sword, and maybe even figure out how the enchantments failed so easily. Since Saphira's gone that shouldn't be a problem."

"No, that's fine. Please let me know what you find. If you need my help just ask."

"Of course."

Blödhgarm stood up and walked over to the elves. He said a few words and then sat down with three other elves and began examining the pieces of Arya's sword.

Eragon motioned to the other guards as he walked out of the courtyard. He had already decided to spend his afternoon helping people learn swordsmanship.

Frederic immediately embraced Eragon's help as soon as he arrived, surrendering an entire regiment of trainees to his instruction. By the time the afternoon was over Eragon's temper was beginning to act up. He hadn't realized how difficult it could be to teach someone something that you considered so simple. After escaping from Frederic's attempt at bringing him back the next day, he returned to his tent with a new found appreciation of his mentors.

Several more women approached him on his walk back, and after following Blödhgarm's advice they left without incident. _I must remember to thank Blödhgarm, _he thought.

Upon arriving at his and Arya's tents he was disappointed to see that Saphira had not returned from her training. He went to his tent and murmured a few spells to remove any odor that had accumulated on him throughout the day at the training field. He donned his finest clothes, a pair of black slacks and a royal blue elven tunic.

For a moment he thought about leaving Brisingr, but decided against it and strapped it and the belt of Beloth the Wise around his waist. Satisfied that he was as presentable as he was ever going to be, he walked outside and stared into the sky, hoping to spot Saphira.

When he could not, he extended his consciousness far enough to find her. _What? _she asked impatiently.

_The celebration is going to start soon. Will you be returning for it?_

_Yes._

Her unusually short and bland responses worried Eragon. _Saphira, is everything all right? You have been acting strange these last few days._

_Ah…I'm sorry. This day has been stressful. I now understand why only a select few dragons master this technique._

_That doesn't explain the last few days, _he pushed.

_It's just…well you and Arya have been spending more time together. Don't misunderstand me, I'm happy for you, it has just reminded me of how alone I am. You have Arya, or any other elf, to mate with in the future, but me…I have no one. _Her words were masked behind an emotionless facade, much like Arya always used.

_Saphira, that's not true. There is always the final dragon egg, which we know is male. If that doesn't work out I give you my word that we will search everywhere possible for a mate for you._

_I know you will, Eragon._

_Just try not to dwell on it, _he counseled. _You're making the same mistake I made with Arya._

He felt her laugh over the link, making him smile. She said, _Thanks, Eragon. I'll be right there. I just want to try this once more._

_See you soon._ He removed himself from her mind so that she could concentrate on her technique…whatever it was.

Eragon made his way over to Arya's tent and knocked on the pole in the entrance. "Arya?"

"Eragon, hold on. I'll be right out." 

With a resigned sigh he paced in front of her tent, trying to think of what he should say to her when she came out.

Before he was able to come up with anything halfway decent the flap rustled and Arya walked out. She hadn't rebelled and wore a dress like he had hoped might happen, but she did abandon her traditional black leather in favor of an emerald green elven tunic and a pair of black pants similar to Eragon's. Her repaired sword hung at her side.

Arya's eyes flicked up and down, examining him. She smiled and said jokingly, "Well, you almost look handsome." After she saw his uncertain expression she shook her head and added, "You look great, Eragon."

Eragon smiled, blushing slightly. "So do you." He motioned to the sword at her waist and said, "I see Blödhgarm and the elves fixed your sword."

"Yes. They actually found burn marks on the blade where it was severed. Do you have any idea why that is?"

With a shrug he said, "No, I never used my sword's ability during our duel." He gestured toward castle. "Come, we can worry about that later. Let's enjoy this evening together."

Arya glanced around. "Isn't Saphira coming?"

"She'll be here in a few minutes. She's been doing something secretive all day."

"Strange," Arya remarked.

Together they walked into the castle and up to Nasuada's command room, which was where the celebration was being held. By the time they had reached the room Eragon could feel Saphira approaching. Several people greeted him and Arya when they arrived, but since the celebration had already started they didn't manage to attract huge amounts of attention.

Eragon didn't really know where he was supposed to go. There were tables set up on one side of the room, and a large dance floor on the other. A music group was stationed in one corner playing lively and heroic tunes, and in the opposite corner there was a mead dispensary. As soon as Saphira landed she began moving towards the corner with the mead, scattering several couples on her way.

Arya turned to Eragon and smiled, laughing softly. "You should really do something about her drinking. It could become a problem if this becomes a habit."

Eragon smiled, and Saphira growled in their thoughts. _I heard that. I rarely drink, so when I do I like to indulge myself._

_Well just stay relatively sober tonight, please, _said Eragon.

Saphira made no reply, and Eragon didn't get a chance to pursue the topic because Nasuada approached him and Arya. She wore a stunning white dress that left her shoulders exposed. Eragon had never realized how beautiful she was.

Nasuada said, "Ah, Eragon, Arya, good. Your seats are at my table. This way." She led Eragon and Arya to a medium sized table on the edge of the dance floor. There were three empty seats at the table, and two others that were occupied by Jörmundur and Orrin.

Eragon almost helped Arya into her chair, but quickly stayed his movements and remembered how much she hated chivalry. With an awkward feeling he sat down next to her.

Orrin was the first to speak at the table. He said, "So, Eragon. I heard that you spent the day training recruits with Frederic."

"Let me tell you," Eragon responded, reaching for a bowl of carrots on the table. "It is a great deal more strenuous than it would appear. Frederic is more useful than annoying, apparently." He said the last part with regret and humor, remembering how terribly boring it was to learn about whetstones and sharpening of swords from Frederic several months before.

"When I was being trained, I wore out four different instructors in one day," Jörmundur joked.

"I think the greatest achievement of all," Arya said. "Is that Brom, old cranky Brom, was able to train Eragon from scratch. We all know how many questions Eragon has, but imagine back when he knew nothing."

"I wasn't _that _bad," Eragon protested.

"Well, he was Eragon's father," Nasuada added. "That probably extended his patience more than anything else."

"Well, I wasn't the only one that was a handful to manage," Eragon said, quickly scanning his memories for an embarrassing story about Roran. "A few days after Garrow attempted to teach Roran how to drive the horses with the wagon, he asked Roran to go into town to get several supplies. I went with him to help. On the way back Katrina was bathing in a nearby stream, barely within eyesight. Roran completely lost control of the horses and they ran through the forest, causing near fatal damage to the wagon in the process. Let's just say that Garrow was less than pleased, and this was before Roran had decided to even court Katrina."

"I can't say," said Orrin, "That I could come up with any story that embarrassing about myself." Nasuada agreed, and Arya just chuckled. She clearly had something embarrassing she could have shared, but it didn't surprise Eragon that she held back.

They chatted lightheartedly and cheerily for a time, and then Orrin surprised everyone by asking Nasuada to dance. As the two walked over to the dance floor Eragon stole a quick glance at Arya and saw a small smile on her face as she watched Orrin and Nasuada.

It took Eragon another ten minutes, and several encouraging words from Saphira, for him to decide to ask Arya for the same thing. He turned to Arya and asked softly, "Would you like to dance?"

For the few brief seconds between his question and her reply Eragon could feel his heart beating quickly and heavily in his chest. It slowed somewhat when a faint smile crossed her face and she said, "Yes, I would. I was wondering how long it would take you to ask."

Relieved, Eragon grasped her hand and together they walked onto the dance floor. He placed his free hand on her side and began dancing slowly and smoothly, simply enjoying the fact that he was _actually_ dancing with Arya.

After a short time Arya asked, "Where did you learn to dance?"

"I didn't," he admitted. "I figured if I could master swordplay, a simple dance would come naturally. How about you?"

"My mother taught me the basics when I was eleven, and Faolin helped me with the finer points when I was older." Eragon could sense a faint sadness in her voice at the mention of Faolin, and for a moment he thought about discussing the topic, but he quickly discarded the idea.

They danced for close to half an hour in silence before they were interrupted by Nasuada approaching. Wondering what Nasuada might want with them in the middle of a dance Eragon reluctantly released Arya and faced Nasuada. She said, "Arya, may I borrow Eragon for a moment? Something has come up."

With a shrug Arya said, "Go. Dancing can wait."

Eragon gave her an apologetic look as Nasuada guided him to a corner of the room to speak privately. She whispered, "Scouts in Aroughs spotted nine Empire ships leaving the ports late in the night. They also say they think there were between ten and twenty of Galbatorix's elite squad of magicians on board."

_Twenty…_Eragon thought, amazed that Galbatorix would commit so many humans to one offensive. It wasn't common knowledge, but Galbatorix had a personally trained group of spellcasters loyal only to him. Rumors placed their numbers between fifty and seventy five, but Eragon believed those numbers were slightly exaggerated.

To Nasuada he asked, "How long ago was this?" 

"Last night."

"They could almost be to Dauth by now," Eragon commented.

"My advisers predict that it will be two days before they reach Dauth. The problem is that we have almost no military forces left in Surda. If those ships land they could cause an unimaginable amount of damage to our women and children."

_It would take me a day and a half to reach the ships assuming fair winds, _Saphira offered to Eragon.

_Saphira, do you think we are strong enough to face such a force after a long flight?_

She mentally shrugged. _Even if we are not, we could always retreat. It's better than having them land in Dauth without even a challenge. _

_Agreed. _He turned back to Nasuada. "Saphira and I will handle it." 

"Are you strong enough to face all of them alone? And can you even fly there that quickly?" Nasuada asked in disbelief.

"Yes, but we will need to leave tonight. I'm not sure if we'll be strong enough to destroy all of them, but we should definitely be able to cripple their attack force." 

"Go then," Nasuada said, a relieved expression on her face.

"We'll leave in an hour or two, I would like to finish my dance," he said, a small smile on his face.

"What are you going to tell Arya?" Nasuada asked, clearly having flashbacks of when Arya chased Eragon into the Empire.

"The truth." He walked away from Nasuada, exchanging a look with Saphira before heading back to Arya, who was standing on the edge of the dance floor waiting.

_Saphira, don't drink any more. _

_I know. You'll probably have to clear my head with magic before we leave. _Eragon chuckled to himself.

When he reached Arya he took her hand loosely and walked back onto the dance floor. As soon as they resumed dancing Arya asked, "What did she tell you?" 

In a low voice so that the people nearby wouldn't hear, he said, "Nine ships with twenty of Galbatorix's elite magicians are going to reach Dauth in two days." 

"And you offered to stop them, didn't you?" Arya asked in a deadly quiet voice.

"Yes. Saphira and I will leave tonight, and we will return within five days."

"It's suicide, Eragon. Galbatorix's elite magicians may not have access to his Eldunarí, but twenty of them together would pose a significant threat even to you. Not to mention all the other soldiers the ships are carrying. At least let me come with you."

Eragon shook his head. "Saphira might not be able to fly fast enough with two riders. We have to stop the ships before they reach Dauth."

"Would it make a difference if I asked you to stay?" she asked softly.

"Would you want it to make a difference?"

"No, I suppose not," she admitted. "How much time until you leave?"

"We will depart within the next few hours."

Arya made no response except to step closer to Eragon and rest her head on his shoulder. They danced together in silence for a time, neither wanting to acknowledge the fact that they would be parted soon.

Eventually Saphira said softly, _Eragon, we must go._

He drew himself up and extricated himself from her embrace. "It is time," he said simply.

"I'll see you in five days then," Arya said with authority, as if she expected Eragon to take her statement as an order. He nodded.

Eragon hesitated for a moment, and then he lightly kissed Arya's cheek. Not wanting to face her reaction, he turned around immediately and walked over to Saphira, watching her reaction through Saphira's eyes.

He was surprised to see a small, almost longing smile grace her features for a moment before being replaced by the impassive mask she so often wore. Satisfied, he mounted Saphira and together they returned to Eragon's tent to prepare for their journey.


	5. Chapter 5: A Dragon's Power

Chapter 5: A Dragon's Power

Eragon jerked to the side in an attempt to dodge an arrow headed straight for his head. The arrow followed his movement and was stopped by his wards, draining his strength further. With a quick glance over his shoulder he noticed the six remaining ships attempting to cluster together in an attempt to stop Saphira from flying between them and wreaking havoc as she had done to the two tattered vessels that were slowly sinking into the merciless sea.

Upon reaching the ships Eragon discovered that there were only fourteen magicians, but they were spread out amongst the ships, making it difficult for Saphira to prioritize her targets. The magicians had chosen to not siege Eragon's mind, but instead opted for limited wards and a constant stream of magically guided arrows and ballistae.

There were at least a hundred soldiers on each ship shooting arrows at him and Saphira without pause. The arrows weren't enchanted, but their sheer volume was quickly draining the reserves of Eragon, Saphira, and the belt of Beloth the Wise. As another volley was intercepted by Eragon's wards he grunted and said, _Saphira, we can't take much more of this. Maybe another minute or two. Let's do what we can and then retreat. We'll have to fight them in Surda._

_Thousands of people will die if we don't succeed here, _Saphira reminded him, rolling to the side as the archers fired again. _Hold on! _She folded her wings as more arrows shot up from the ships, this time accompanied by two dozen massive ballistae shots. As the projectiles neared them Saphira fell out of the sky and into the unforgiving waters of the ocean. Eragon lurched at the impact and clutched his chest as he felt how much it hurt Saphira. It was the equivalent of landing on a massive rock.

Under the surface of the water the archers had trouble aiming at them and arrows began whizzing past, not guided by magic as they were before. Eragon knew the reprieve wouldn't last long. He would be unable to hold his breath for an extended duration and the magicians would quickly adjust their spell so that the water was not an obstacle. To Saphira he said, _Thousands more may die if we do not escape. We may yet be able to stop them before they reach the cities, but we will need time to think._

Saphira glided through the water, spinning her tail to adjust their course. She came up underneath one ship that hadn't quite regrouped with the others and launched herself out of the water. As she flew up past the ship Eragon held Brisingr out and carved a massive hole in the side of the vessel while Saphira bashed the side of the ship with her tail.

The odd use of her tail caused her to fall abruptly, but she caught herself before they hit the water. Eragon twitched as he felt his energy fade as another volley of several hundred arrows was intercepted by his wards. The belt of Beloth the Wise was empty, and Saphira was even breathing hard due to her exertion of the past two days and her dangerously low levels of energy. _Saphira, _he said gently, recognizing her reasons for staying as being to avenge Oromis and Glaedr in any way possible. _We must go._

She roared and flapped her wings twice, bringing them high above the ships below. Eragon noticed that the five ships left, not counting the one that was rapidly sinking because of their recent attack, had gathered into a tight formation.

Arrows arched up at them, but Saphira made no move to evade. She craned her neck back and Eragon felt her draw from the fire inside of her. _They have wards against fire, _he reminded her tiredly. They had already tried to burn the ships and it had failed miserably.

Unlike when she normally breathed fire, Saphira did not release her flames as they came forth. Instead, she clamped her jaws shut and held back the fire, creating a bulge in her cheek as the seconds passed. When Eragon thought she could hold no more, and just a moment before his wards would run out of energy, Saphira opened her mouth spat out the massive globule of fire.

Eragon watched in awe as the ball of fire impacted with the center ship and exploded, creating enough smoke and fire to block their vision of the ships.

The arrows ceased.

Eragon, who had slumped over in the saddle from exhaustion, sat up curiously, waiting to see what the result of Saphira's attack was.

As the smoke cleared Eragon beheld the ships, or what was left of them. The center ship had been blown into thousands of flaming pieces that were floating in the water. The other four ships that were not directly hit were still recognizable, but they were damaged beyond any hope of repair. They quickly sunk into the water below as Saphira and Eragon watched from above.

The only remaining ship was the one that Eragon had carved up. It still barely floated above the water.

With an exaggerated slowness, Saphira banked and began flying to shore, slowly, for she was exhausted.

Fighting his own exhaustion, Eragon patted her on the neck. _Glaedr would be proud of you._

He sensed an odd tone of regret in her voice. She seemed angry when she spoke, but Eragon could tell that the anger wasn't directed at him. _No, he would not. I should have told you what I was going to do. Not communicating with my Rider is a sure way to die in a battle._

_Saphira, _Eragon said strongly. _If you are going to single handedly eliminate the enemy in a glorious fashion you do not need to seek my approval. I have full confidence in your decisions. _He felt her sides vibrate against his legs as she began to hum contentedly. He smiled.

A few moments later Eragon asked, _So, what was that? I'm assuming it is what you were practicing yesterday._

_When we were told that the abilities of dragons were a complete mystery that was not entirely true. Glaedr mentioned that some of the wisest riders and dragons were able to unlock several of our abilities. Glaedr said that the only one he had learned about was the technique you just saw. He told me that only a fraction of a percent of dragons ever manage to do what I just did, which is why we did not practice it during our training sessions._

_And when he died you wanted to give it a try? _Eragon decided against discussing how Saphira had not told him about her knowledge beforehand, understanding that she did what she did for a reason.

_Yes, although I was unable to achieve it yesterday. I'm not exactly sure why it worked, but it may have something to do with my emotions, just like my other dragon magic._

_I wonder what else you can do..._thought Eragon, laying his head against her back.

_We'll find out together…eventually._


	6. Ch6: Az Swelden Rak Anhuin Strikes Again

Chapter 6: Az Sweldn Rak Anhûin Strikes Again

As Saphira banked high above the Varden Eragon shifted in the saddle, excited to return to his friends. He and Saphira were at least a day late in their return due to them stopping at Dauth on the return flight for a short respite. That, coupled with the fact that he hadn't directly contacted the Varden since his departure six days ago, made Eragon wonder how favorably he would be received by Nasuada, and even Arya. He and Saphira had decided to spend their return flight alone together, without the distractions of politics.

Saphira and Eragon had used their time alone to discuss many things, ranging from the last several months to their prospects in the war and even in the distant future. It was refreshing to be able to completely revel in each others' presence without having to worry about anyone bothering them. As much as Eragon loved Arya's company during the few days after Oromis' death, he found it wonderful to be alone with Saphira once again.

One rather depressing conclusion that he and Saphira had reached, despite all their attempts at finding ways around it, was that they would undoubtedly have to greatly sacrifice their time alone in the future. No matter what he or Saphira came up with, each one of their possible paths held that inescapable truth.

The realization wasn't entirely bad, as both he and Saphira acknowledged that they would likely be able to choose many of the people whom infringed on their time and that many of them could actually be quite positive additions to their exclusive family, namely Arya, Roran, several others amongst the Varden, and any dragons that might appear.

All of that was pushed aside, however, as Saphira lazily spiraled down to the courtyard and landed with a soft _thud_. A small crowd had already gathered to celebrate their return, as by now the news of their mission had clearly spread throughout the Varden.

His guards arrived almost immediately and surrounded Saphira and Eragon, but Eragon reached out and shook several hands, smiling at the people. As soon as Blödhgarm was able to catch Eragon's attention he said, "Welcome back, Shadeslayer. Nasuada requested your presence at the earliest possible convenience."

"I suppose that would be now," Eragon replied, smiling. "Thank you, Blödhgarm."

Blödhgarm and the others spread out around him and Saphira to create some space for him to walk freely. Eragon almost grinned as he saw Arya walking over in his direction, but then something caught his attention. Through all the shouting and commotion he heard a very faint _thud_. Glancing around, he noticed a ring with two hairs tied around it at his feet.

Instantly he was alert, his mind racing back to Orik's final words from his last visit to Tronjheim. _Many of Az Sweldn rak Anhûin actually supported the decision to have you assassinated, so keep an eye out. I doubt they would go after you directly. In the past it has been tradition for a clan that is unable to strike its foes to resort to the next best thing: the people their foe cares about._

Eragon immediately shot his gaze toward Saphira, frantically searching with his mind for the consciousness of anyone that would mean him harm. It only took him a second to locate it, a small source of magical power with ill will towards him…but something was wrong. The consciousness wasn't anywhere near him or Saphira, in fact it was on the outer edge of the group of people.

His eyes settled on Arya, who was not being escorted by any of the elves, and who was on the periphery of the group. Before he could say or do anything to warn her, he saw a slight ripple in the air around her, and then she lurched forward, a dagger protruding from her back.

"Blödhgarm!" Eragon called, hurling his own dagger at the foe. He grimaced as his dagger's course was changed ever so slightly as it barely missed his target, drawing a stream of blood from the figures arm. The momentary distraction cause the figures' magic to falter and Eragon got a quick glimpse of the would-be assassin. It was a dwarf, wearing the same robes as those worn by Az Sweldn rak Anhûin.

By that time his concentration had been restored and the figure vanished from sight. From the droplets of blood it appeared that the attacker was running. Eragon felt Saphira take off behind him, but he did not join her in pursuit. Instead, he sprinted towards Arya at full speed, only a second behind the other elves. Immediately Blödhgarm and the others started to heal Arya, and Eragon tried to join in and help, but Blödhgarm said, "Eragon, no. Get him. I promise we'll take care of Arya."

Eragon glanced at Arya's body, probing the wound with his mind to decide whether or not he needed to stay, all the while fighting off any emotions he might have had at the moment. In an emotionless voice he said, "The dagger barely missed her heart, but it severed an artery. Heal her and let her rest in my tent. I have business with this dwarf." Eragon let his rage at Arya's near death, and still uncertain future, consume him as he sprinted off, following the trail of blood.

Several minutes later, when he had run through most of the city, he observed dryly, _He's fast. _He stopped for a moment over a pool of blood slightly larger than what he had been following, and observed that the trail ended there. _He must have stopped and healed himself._

Glancing up, the only route in view was the southern gate, and beyond that was a vast expanse of sand and dirt. It would be nearly impossible to find and capture the dwarf in all of that while he was cloaked.

Still keeping his mind open, he could sense the dwarfs' consciousness ever so faintly, despite the dwarfs' attempts at shielding it. From Eragon's findings, he concluded that he was running across the plains, and he would not likely catch him, for somehow the dwarf ran with the speed of the elves behind him. _He's going to escape, _Eragon thought in rage.

He staggered as a wall of air hit him and Saphira flew past, roaring and blasting a torrent of fire on the plains below, bathing them in a massive inferno. Eragon squinted at the fire and he thought he was able to make out the sad image of someone writhing in pain and falling to the ground, and then his scream reached Eragon's ears. A sad sense of satisfaction flowed through Eragon as he watched the dwarf die. Nobody was going to threaten Arya and live, _nobody_.

Eragon watched the dwarf scream for several long minutes, and as soon as he went quiet, Eragon turned around and headed back for Arya, determined to find out her condition. Mentally he crashed his mind against Blödhgarm's barriers, demanding entrance.

It was granted after a second's hesitation, and Blödhgarm grumbled, _You didn't have to smash into my barriers like that._

_Sorry, _Eragon replied, not realizing how much force he had put behind his touch. _Is Arya alright?_

_No, but she'll live. _Eragon breathed out a sigh of relief, but wasn't fully content. Blödhgarm added, _The dagger severed her aorta, the largest artery, and she lost an incredible amount of blood, despite our quick healing. She'll undoubtedly be bed-ridden for a short time._

Eragon finally slowed his pace as he arrived next to Blödhgarm. Saphira had already returned and landed, crawling her way over to Arya. He briefly paused and scratched Saphira's nose, grateful for her actions and extremely relieved to know that Arya would fully recover.

Saphira nudged him towards Arya. _Go check on her._

The elves had formed a circle around Arya to shield her from the hundreds of onlookers, and two of them moved to the side to allow Eragon in. He knelt next to her, beside Blödhgarm. They had turned Arya over, but she still lay in a pool of blood and was unconscious. His head told him not to, but instinct drove him to stroke the side of her cheek with his fingers. Blödhgarm eyed him, but did not speak of it.

After determining that she was indeed healed, he picked up Arya carefully and said, "Blödhgarm, could you please notify Nasuada of what happened and tell her that if she wants details she can meet me back at our tents? I'll tend to Arya."

He inclined his head, "Shadeslayer."

Blödhgarm walked away and Eragon made his way back to the tents, accompanied by Saphira and the other elves. For the first time since his return Eragon counted their numbers and was surprised to count seventeen, not eleven. _Queen Islanzadí's reinforcements seem to have arrived, _said Saphira.

Addressing the new elves Eragon said, "I'm sorry for not noticing you six upon my arrival. On behalf of myself and Saphira, I would like to welcome you to the Varden." The elves laughed, amused by his surprise at their presence. They thanked him for his greetings and shared their names with him as they walked back to the tents.

As they neared the tents Eragon asked Saphira, _Should I put Arya in her tent, or mine?_

_Hmm, _Saphira thought. Eragon shifted Arya in his arms slightly, evening out her weight. _Judging by all the people running around and packing, I would say that the Varden will be marching within the next couple of days. We could stay back in Feinster for a day or two to watch Arya, and then catch up with the main army. Let's put her in your tent so I don't have to carry both on the flight._

_Very well._

Eragon pushed open his tent flap and entered, pleased to find everything exactly as he had left it five days ago. He set Arya down on a small table first, letting her legs dangle over the edge. _You've been very composed during this whole ruckus, _Saphira observed.

Eragon shrugged mentally as he tried to think of a way to clean the back of Arya's tunic that was soaked with blood. Some of it had even soaked into the sleeve of his own tunic from carrying her. _You're right. I'd normally be much more flustered and worried. _

_You're growing, learning to not panic in dangerous situations. It is a quality of dragons. _Eragon didn't reply, he was too busy trying to soak the blood up with a cloth. Saphira chuckled and added, _You could just use magic, you know._

Eragon, beginning to feel extremely foolish, said sourly, _Or, and here's a great idea, I could use magic. Only a complete fool would forget that he can use magic._

_True._

Closing his connection with Saphira he snapped, "Flytja du dreyri!" Remove the blood.

His spell instantly cleaned Arya's tunic of the blood stains. He was about to put her in the bed and go speak to Nasuada, but a knock on the entrance pole stopped him. "Eragon, it's Nasuada. Blödhgarm said you wanted to see me."

"Enter!" he called, picking Arya up. He paid no attention to Nasuada as he placed Arya in his bed and covered her with the blanket. Only after that was done did he glance up at Nasuada and sigh in exhaustion. He had only been back with the Varden for a few minutes, but already it seemed like an entire day had passed.

Eragon motioned towards two chairs at his table and they sat down. After a brief silence, Nasuada gestured to Arya's unconscious form and asked, "How is she?"

"She'll live, but she'll be weak for a few days. She lost a lot of blood."

"What happened exactly? Blödhgarm wasn't able to tell me anything more than the details of her injury.

Eragon grimaced and fished around his pocket for the ring that he had picked up. He dropped it on the table and said, "I trust that Orik already informed you of my feud with Az Sweldn rak Anhûin and their attempt to assassinate me." Nasuada nodded. "Well, just before he stabbed Arya, a dwarf dropped this ring in front of me. It is the symbol for a feud in dwarf customs."

"But why weren't you or the elves able to stop him?"

"He was using a spell of invisibility and he struck very quickly. I tried to chase him down, but he escaped to the plains."

_Only until I roasted him, _Saphira added, proud of her accomplishment. _I may go back and eat him for a snack later. His flesh was seared nicely._

_Saphira, _Eragon admonished in a disapproving voice. She snorted.

"Well," Nasuada said. "I'll let you talk to Orik about the true extent of this feud, and what it could mean for the Varden. In the meantime, I wish to know about how your mission went. Lady Alarice of Dauth said several complementing things about you." 

Eragon shrugged. "We sunk the ships, killed over a thousand people, and returned without a scratch. I don't really think anything else needs to be said."

"I _am_ sorry. I know you don't like killing people, but it was necessary."

"I know."

Neither spoke for several moments, but Nasuada eventually said, "The Varden begins marching tomorrow."

Eragon noticed that the statement was more than just an innocent comment. Nasuada seemed to be trying to figure out whether or not Eragon was going to march with the Varden. "I know, but I'll be staying here for a couple days."

"With Arya, I'm assuming." He nodded. "Can she not catch up after healing? It would be tragic if Murtagh attacked us while you were not with our army."

"Galbatorix would have had to already position his army for Murtagh to be able to attack anytime within the next week or two. Since that hasn't happened, fearing his presence seems foolish." He could have left it at that, but he decided to add, "Most of the elves will be marching with you, so you won't be completely defenseless. I'll be staying here with Arya and Saphira for no more than a couple days before flying out to join you."

"As you wish. I do not approve, but I don't have much of a say in the matter." Nasuada glanced at Arya curiously. "Does Islanzadí know about her daughter's condition yet?"

Eragon shook his head, berating himself for forgetting about Arya's mother so easily. "I'll talk to her after you're gone."

"Then I shall take my leave and let you tend to the matters of diplomacy. Enjoy yourself. I do not believe we shall see each other again before the Varden departs, so I look forward to you joining us on our march as soon as you can."

Eragon dipped his head. "Farewell."

As Nasuada left Eragon leaned back in his chair and stretched tiredly, not particularly looking forward to contacting the leaders of both the dwarves and the elves. He decided to speak with Orik first, as he wanted to be prepared should Islanzadí choose to inquire about the details. He stretched his arm out to the nearest saddlebag, which he was barely able to reach without getting up, and withdrew his mirror from the outer compartment.

He scryed Orik's chambers and was greeted by a dwarf magician. As soon as Eragon mentioned wanting to talk to Orik the dwarf bowed and darted away. Eragon counted around eight minutes before Orik stepped into view. The dwarf smiled apologetically and scratched his beard. "You have my apologies, foster brother, for making you wait so long."

"Orik," Eragon said, not mentioning the wait. "How are you?"

Orik shrugged. "Well enough. I've been working endlessly to ready the dwarves for battle. Most of the clans have already departed, and Dûrgrimst Ingeitum will be joining them within the week. We should be at Belatona at least a week before the snowy weather arrives."

"That is indeed good news, I wish I could give you news of equal quality." Eragon spoke in a somewhat depressed voice, causing Orik to raise an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

"You were right about Az Sweldn rak Anhûin. They went for my friends."

Orik's expression immediately changed from mild amusement to brutal anger and concern. "Tell me what happened."

Eragon lifted the ring off the table and dangled it in front of the mirror. "One of Az Sweldn rak Anhûin tossed this at me." Eragon grabbed the dwarf's dagger, which he didn't even remember picking up, and presented it to Orik. "And then stabbed Arya in the heart with this."

"Eragon, I-I don't know what to say," Orik began, stuttering in shock. "If she's dead-"

"She's not."

"Thank Gûntera!" Orik exclaimed. "How badly was she injured then?"

"The dagger severed her primary artery and she lost enough blood to create a large puddle, but she'll live. She is resting right now." He tilted the mirror to the side so that Orik could see her lying down in the background.

"In your bed," Orik observed with a sly grin.

Eragon shook his head, amazed at what Orik was implying. "No you fool. The Varden are marching tomorrow and I'm staying here with her. The elves will be carrying her tent."

"Naturally," he responded, but the grin did not fade.

A short silence reigned supreme, but Eragon finally asked, "What happens now?"

Orik glanced down and pressed his palms against his face. "There will be a clan war. It's unavoidable."

"We don't have time for a clan war. We barely had time for your race's election politics," Eragon said, frustrated.

"I know. I would try to postpone the clan war until after the real war is finished, but I'm not sure Islanzadí will accept that. She will want justice for Arya's attackers, and rightly so. Angering the elven queen is a terrible way to start my reign as King."

"I can handle Islanzadí," Eragon said, trying to appear confident, whereas in reality he had no clue if he could actually convince her to forestall vengeance or not. "She might be willing to listen to me due to the fact that Saphira roasted the dwarf responsible for the act."

"If you could do that it would be immensely helpful," Orik said, rubbing his temples. "I'm going to have to see what I can do on my end, but I do not think you should delay any longer in telling Islanzadí of Arya's condition. It would only serve to make matters worse."

"Agreed. Take care of yourself Orik."

"I should be telling you that!" Eragon smiled, ending his scrying spell, feeling relieved that the conversation had gone so smoothly considering the topic. He didn't want another war. No, never that. His feud with Az Sweldn rak Anhûin should not involve thousands of other innocent people.

_Will this ever end? _he asked Saphira. _After the war with Galbatorix we'll immediately have to turn our attention towards the dwarves' clan war. And after that…who knows._

_There are other ways, _Saphira admitted.

_Like what? Exterminate Az Sweldn rak Anhûin? _When she didn't reply, he groaned. _You're not serious, are you?_

_As repulsive as it sounds, it is either us or them. I will not let it be us._

As much as he wanted to deny the truth in her words, he could not. Still, he would not stand for the slaughter of an entire dwarf clan. There _had_ to be another way. To Saphira he said, _We'll have to see what happens after this war. I need to contact Islanzadí before the day gets any older._

_Go, _she said, but then as he was about to mouth the spell for scrying she added. _But if they harm one of our friends again I _will_ retaliate. They are lucky to still be alive after what they tried to do to you, and now to Arya as well._

Eragon knew there was nothing he could or should have said to Saphira. He was actually quite grateful for her remarkable level of restraint, especially during the dwarves' clanmeet where she could have easily killed Vermûnd, the chief of Az Sweldn rak Anhûin. He just shook his head and murmured, "Draumr kópa."

As usual, he was not met by Islanzadí's face in the mirror, but rather one of her assistants. The elf bowed and fetched the queen as soon as Eragon said that he needed to speak with her about an urgent matter.

While he waited, Eragon picked up the mirror and walked over to his bed, sitting down next to Arya's head. He figured Islanzadí might want to see where Arya was stabbed, and he hadn't repaired the fabric covering the wound on her back.

_Remember, _Saphira advised. _You wield power and authority equal to Vrael, so if she overreacts do not allow her to make a rash decision._

Islanzadí appeared in the mirror a moment later. Eragon greeted her first, "Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr," the queen replied coolly. "What is it that you needed to speak with me about?"

Eragon grimaced. "There's no easy way to say it, so I'll just skip right to it. Arya was stabbed in the heart about an hour ago."

"What!" Islanzadí exclaimed. "Who, what, why?" Eragon detected a hint of hysteria in her voice.

Feeling extremely odd, he said, "Shh, she did not die, and she is fine." He tilted the mirror to show Arya lying beside him, resting peacefully.

There was an audible sigh of relief from Islanzadí, but she still stared at Eragon with a strong, determined, and angry expression. "You had better have a damn good explanation for this, and her guards must answer for their incompetence."

"I'll talk about what happened, and then why. Is that acceptable?" Islanzadí nodded. Eragon took a deep breath, and then began by saying, "I was sent away on a mission a few days ago. The details aren't important, but I arrived back at the Varden around an hour ago. There was quite the crowd upon my arrival and all eighteen elves came to gather around and guard me. It was then that Arya was stabbed right here." He lifted Arya by her shoulder and indicated the torn patch of fabric.

"The dagger severed her aorta and she lost an immense amount of blood, but Blödhgarm and the other elves were able to heal her in time."

"Did you kill the person responsible?"

"Yes."

Queen Islanzadí sighed, apparently in relief. "You still haven't told me why this happened."

"That's a bit more complicated. Did I ever tell you of the feud between myself and the dwarf clan, Az Sweldn rak Anhûin?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "You briefly mentioned it in your story when you first arrived. What of it?"

"They tried to assassinate me in Tronjheim a couple months ago. Since they were unsuccessful, and because I have elvish guards here at the Varden, they chose to strike at Arya instead."

"Why would they attack her?"

"Because she is my friend." When the Queen gave him a strange, curious expression he added, "A feuding clan will strike at their enemies' friends if they are unable to strike directly. She was probably targeted instead of Roran because she has made it a habit to argue fiercely with any priest or religious dwarf she came across."

Eragon eyed Islanzadí warily, curious to see what she would do. She noticed his gaze and said, "Eragon, I am not as foolish as I was before. I will not allow this incident to disrupt our war with Galbatorix. I would, however, like to know what will be done about this."

"King Orik believes that a clan war will be unavoidable in the future. The dwarf directly responsible is dead, and the others will follow soon enough if Saphira has anything to say about it. I beg you to not get involved, at least not yet. You don't have to fear for Arya's safety. Now that my guards are alert to Az Sweldn rak Anhûin they should be more than capable of defending us against them. I also doubt that they will try to strike again. Saphira made quite the example out of the dwarf, and as long as she is around they should be hesitant to do anything."

"I will place my trust in you, if only because Arya trusts you. I would like to speak with her if it is possible."

"I could probably wake her if you insist, but it would be much better to let her wake on her own. She needs the rest to restore as much blood as possible."

Islanzadí thought about it for a minute, and then nodded. "In that case, I would like you to answer a few questions." Eragon noted that she had switched over to the Ancient Language.

"I will answer them to the best of my ability."

"Good. Why is Arya in your bed? I'm assuming it's yours because I remember her tent being green, while yours was blue."

"The Varden begin marching for Belatona tomorrow, but I'll be staying here with Arya to keep an eye on her as she recovers. The elves will be going with the Varden to hold off Murtagh and Thorn if they were to attack. They are taking Arya's tent with them so that Saphira doesn't have to carry both of them during her flight."

"So there are no other, perhaps more personal reasons?" Islanzadí persisted.

"If you're asking me whether or not Arya and I are sleeping together, the answer is no. There is a personal reason for me staying with her, and that is because I would not trust someone else with her safety." Eragon heard a faint snort from outside the tent. He ignored Saphira.

Recognizing an opportunity to end the conversation before it got any more personal, Eragon said, "Queen Islanzadí, I tire of these conversations. I take my leave, and be assured that I will watch over Arya for you and tell her that you wish to speak with her."

Islanzadí inclined her head. "Farewell Eragon-elda." As he ended his magic and returned his mirror to the saddlebags he marveled at the honorific the Queen had used next to his name. Elda was reserved for only the wisest and most respected elves. Her use of the honorific expressed her, up to that point, relatively unknown level of respect for Eragon.

Several hours passed before the sun set late in the evening. Eragon spent much of the time outside his tent speaking with his guards, doing his best to acquaint himself with the new ones.

When at last Saphira and most of his guards had drifted off into the realm of sleep, Eragon stood up from the fire they had created and returned to his tent to check on Arya again, making sure that she hadn't woken and that nothing unexpected had happened.

Satisfied that she was indeed as healthy as could be expected, he jogged to the same cliff he had mourned Oromis and Glaedr upon, but only after telling Blödhgarm where he was going. He didn't know why, but he felt the urge to watch the ocean from that secret vantage point, and he wanted to get away from the camp.

As soon as he arrived he leaned against one of the fallen trees, lying back and enjoying the peacefulness of the night. He knew that he should try to sleep, but he did not feel tired at all.

Perhaps a half hour later he heard a twig snap some distance away. He flung his consciousness out over the area and felt three consciousnesses, but relaxed his grip on the hilt of his sword when he realized that they were elves. He did not turn to greet them until they were only a few feet behind him, but when he turned around he was very surprised by what he saw.

Arya was walking, slower than usual, but walking all the same, with two elves guarding, and if necessary, supporting her. She gave Eragon a weak smile when he looked at her, and he couldn't help but smile back. She hadn't changed her clothes, and frankly she looked like a mess, but it was a great relief to see her moving around so soon.

Eragon shifted his gaze to Blödhgarm, who was several feet behind her, a curious expression on his face. In answer, Blödhgarm said, "She wanted to talk to you."

"I would have come back to the Varden if you wanted to talk," Eragon offered to Arya. "You didn't have to walk all the way out here."

"Nonsense," Arya replied, sitting next to him and leaning against the log. "I needed some fresh air." She turned to Blödhgarm and the other elf. "Thank you for accompanying me, but you two can return to the Varden now. I would like to speak with Eragon alone." Blödhgarm glanced at Eragon, waiting for his approval. Eragon nodded.

When the elves were gone Arya sighed softly and said quietly, "The stars are beautiful tonight, are they not?"

"They are."

Eragon turned his head and studied her closely. "What is it?" she asked, noticing.

"I was just trying to determine how you are feeling."

"Not good," Arya admitted. "Blödhgarm didn't give me many of the details, but I have inferred a great deal from where the hole in my tunic is, and also the dagger in your tent." She cocked her head to the side and stared into his eyes. "Curious, why was I in your tent? I don't mind; I'm just curious."

"The plan is that Saphira and I stay with you in Feinster for a few days before catching up with the Varden. Saphira didn't want to carry both of the tents, so you can stay in mine for the next couple days while you recover. I can sleep with Saphira or on the ground." 

"I would never kick you out of your own bed."

"It was my choice. I'm fine with it."

Arya blinked. "We can talk about this tomorrow. I'd just like to know what happened, all of it."

Eragon related all of the information to Arya, taking the opportunity to mention that her mother wanted to talk to her as well. When she didn't reply for a time he muttered regretfully, "I would not blame you if you hold me responsible for what happened."

Arya rested her hand on his upper arm. "Why would I blame you? You did not cause this."

"It is because of my feud with Az Sweldn rak Anhûin-"

"And you are not responsible for that either," she cut him off. "I think I should rather be grateful for you and Saphira killing the dwarf and providing me with a place to recover. It is most appreciated."

"Anytime."

They spent minutes in complete silence. Arya eventually asked Eragon, "How did your mission go?"

Eragon frowned, but did not refuse to broach the topic as he had with others. Instead, he said, "Difficult. We killed over a thousand people without being hurt at all. I feel like a monster." 

Arya raised her palm to his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes. "You are not a monster, Eragon. You are doing what is necessary to overthrow Galbatorix. The fact that killing bothers you so much only proves my point. Your heart is noble, and as long as you listen to it you will not become a monster. I will not allow it."

"There would be little that you could do to stop me, but thank you," he reluctantly replied. Arya chose not to respond. He wasn't sure if she agreed with his statement, or she just didn't want to broach the topic, but either way he was satisfied with the conversation being dropped.

They spoke about lighter matters for another forty five minutes, but Eragon noticed that Arya seemed to be getting quite tired. He mentioned it to her, and she outright denied it, only to fall asleep on his shoulder several minutes later.

He looked at the elf sleeping against him with a smile on his face. Being careful to not wake her, he carried Arya back to the Varden and placed her in his bed. Still not feeling the urge to sleep, he leaned against Saphira's side and prepared to watch the sunrise that would begin in only a few short hours.

(Time Skip)**

Eragon stood outside his tent staring up at the stars. The sun had set recently and he was just about to go rest with Saphira. It was a day since Arya's injury, and he hadn't slept the night before, so he was quite tired.

Saphira, however, seemed to have other plans. She spread her wings and said in his mind, _I have not hunted in darkness for quite some time. It's the only way hunting is even remotely challenging anymore. _Eragon noted the slight hint of amusement in her voice as she jumped into the sky, flapping quickly. _I'll be back later._

_Perfect, _Eragon thought sarcastically, stifling a yawn. He turned around and walked back into his tent, despite just having bid Arya good night a few minutes before. As he slumped into a chair she sat up and looked at him curiously. "I thought you were going to sleep with Saphira."

"So did I," he said, shrugging. "She decided to go hunting." 

"At night?"

"It's the only way that it is a challenge for her."

"Ah," Arya said, glancing down.

An awkward silence stretched between them for a minute, neither sure what to say. Eragon quickly broke it with a sigh and, "I suppose I'll sleep on the floor in here."

He made to get up and grab a bed roll from the saddlebags that Saphira had left behind, but was stopped by Arya as she said, "No, don't. I would be ashamed if I kept you from your own bed another night."

With a small smile he said, "It is no problem. I've slept on the ground before, you know."

"Nonsense, your chivalrous attitude has cost you enough. This bed is made for two people. There is plenty of room for both of us."

Ignoring his incredible confusion, Eragon said softly, "I do not think that would be wise, Arya."

"Either we both sleep in the bed, or you do and I'll take the floor," Arya insisted.

"Why are you so adamant about this?" Eragon asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

A slight shade of pink flushed across Arya's cheeks, but she maintained her strong voice. "You've done so much for me and…well I really can't think of any other way to repay you but to allow you to rest in comfort."

Eragon shook his head, thoroughly confused. "As you wish." He kicked off his shoes and climbed into the opposite side of the bed, making sure to maintain a respectable distance between him and Arya. Normally, he'd remove his shirt and longer pants, but he dared not with Arya so close. There was another awkward silence until Eragon said, "You never have to repay me for anything, Arya." 

Arya turned on her side, facing him, and closed her eyes, not bothering to respond. With an awkward sigh Eragon closed his eyes as well, drifting into his waking dreams.

Eragon slept peacefully for a time, but he was roused abruptly as an elbow struck his upper chest. Gathering his bearings, he immediately reached for a dagger that he kept under his pillow, but halted his motion when he realized that it was Arya that had struck him as she tossed and turned in her sleep.

Instead of grabbing the dagger, he sat up and caught her wrists as she tossed and turned, holding her still. "Arya," he said softly, concerned for her. He could see her lips moving, so he bent over slightly closer, still holding her arms so that she could not strike him.

Eragon felt a pang of sympathy as he heard what she was mumbling. "Durza, no, no, no." Her arms weakened and she stopped flailing as she breathed out, "Eragon..."

"Arya?" he asked, but received no answer. She was still asleep. He released her hands and shook her shoulder, causing her eyes to instantly snap open and stare at him. Sighing in relief, he repeated himself. "Arya?"

"Eragon," she whispered, sounding relieved. "What happened?"

"You were flailing in your sleep. I woke when you hit me."

She glanced away. "I'm sorry."

Eragon shook his head, extending one of his hands to her face so that he could tilt it back towards him. "Arya, you were mumbling 'Durza, no, no, no' in your sleep. You do not have to apologize to me for having trouble getting over what happened to you."

"I...cannot talk about it, Eragon."

He continued to stare into her eyes. "This is not the first time I've woken you from one of these nightmares. Please, Arya, let me help you. Sharing your burden with someone helps. I know from experience. It is how Saphira and I stay sane with all the misery we are surrounded with."

Arya closed her eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze for any longer. "Eragon, you cannot understand. It is not that I don't want to tell you, or that I don't trust you..."

"Then what?" he asked.

"I-I am afraid that you will think less of me if I told you."

"Arya, open your eyes, look at me," he insisted. She did, albeit hesitantly. "Nothing you could tell me about Gil'ead would make me think any less of you. I can promise that in the Ancient Language if you need me to."

He held her gaze as she studied him for a long minute. Then, apparently decided, she reached up and placed her hand around his upper arm, pulling him gently back down onto the bed. Confused, he followed her gesture and returned to a sleeping position, unsure of what she was going to do next.

They laid like that for awhile, and then Arya finally said, almost so quietly that Eragon had to wonder if he really heard her. "I will trust you, but understand how difficult it is for me to share this with you, no matter how good of a friend you are." Eragon did not reply, instead waiting for her to continue. He had already said what was needed.

Eragon was surprised as Arya rolled towards him, squeezing up against his side and even positioning part of her body on top of his. "Hold me," she whispered as she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head in the crook of his neck.

"What? Why?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

"Please, Eragon, just do it."

"Okay," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her close to him, pleasantly surprised by the experience.

He felt Arya press her mind against his own. As soon as he lowered his barriers and allowed her into his thoughts, she began replaying her memories of her time in Gil'ead. The memories flashed though his mind very quickly, but Eragon did not mind. He was actually grateful that he was not given the opportunity to dwell on what he saw.

Eragon quickly realized, based on what Arya showed him, that her wounds were actually relatively healed, likely in preparation for transfer to Urû'baen. The wounds that Eragon had originally interpreted as the extent of her torture suddenly seemed insignificant when compared to the barbaric torture that Durza subjected her to.

After about a week's worth of memories, Eragon finally understood why Arya was so terrified of recounting the experience. It was then that, apparently every night, Durza began staying later, and later, and later. At first he subjected her to additional torture, but when that did not work, the raping began.

When the first rape memory passed between them, Eragon felt Arya clench her arms around him extremely tightly. She held nothing back as she showed Eragon how Durza defiled her, over, and over, and over again.

It happened for so many nights in a row that Eragon lost count. But then, just when he thought that it couldn't get worse, Durza came up with something new. It was obvious that just raping Arya was not working, so he enhanced the experience. Such enhancements varied from using knives, spiked sticks, and other specially crafted instruments designed solely to break a female victim.

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of torture, the memories faded from his thoughts, leaving him with a sobbing Arya latched onto him. His own eyes leaked tears as well. He found himself wishing that he had not killed Durza, that the death he dealt to him was too merciful, too humane. Durza did not deserve such a decent ending, not after what he did to Arya.

Eragon did his best to rub Arya's back with his hands, trying to reassure her and make her as comfortable as possible, now understanding just what he had asked her to relive. He gently touched her thoughts, understanding that he was not about to get a verbal response from her while she was sobbing against him.

_I am so, so sorry, Arya. I had no idea what I was asking you to do._

_No, _she thought. _If I was going to share this with someone, I am glad it was you._

Eragon felt honored by her words. _Why did you think that I would think less of you because of this? _he asked.

_You are sure that you do not?_

_I swear that I don't._

He could feel the immense relief in her thoughts when he promised that. _Thank you, Eragon. I was concerned because humans view women that have lost their virginity out of marriage as...how do you say it? Damaged goods? They are often shunned, ignored, or treated like trash. I did not want to risk you thinking that way of me. You are far too important to me for me to lose you like that._

_You know that I would never act like that, don't you?_ When she gave him a mental acknowledgment, he added. _I don't know what else I can say to you now. Words just seem so meaningless with what you just showed me. But if you ever need anything, ever, I will always be here for you. _He could feel her gratitude through their connection.

They stayed like that for awhile as Arya cried herself to her physical limit. When it finally seemed like she had calmed down, Eragon made to release his embrace of her.

_Don't let go, _she whispered in his thoughts. _Please, _she added a moment later when he hesitated.

Eragon's lips twitched in a slight smile as he embraced her once again. It was not long after that they both succumbed to their dreams, if only for a short while.

Eragon awoke several hours later from the sun filtering through the fabric of his tent. He was immediately aware that he and Arya had not moved during the night, that she was still latched onto him and he was still embracing her.

From the brightest patch of fabric at the top of his tent, Eragon was able to determine that it was late into the morning. He deeply regretted having to do so, but he gently massaged Arya's back to wake her up, knowing that they had slept far too long.

Her initial response was to shift against him, nuzzling her head deeper into his neck, but then she regained full consciousness. He felt her sigh as she became aware of her surroundings. The arms that were latched around him loosened, and she released her hold on his body, but she did not move herself away.

"Good morning," Eragon murmured.

She yawned. "How long have you been awake?"

"Only a few minutes. How are you doing?"

"I will be okay. Eragon, thank you so much."

"For what?" he asked.

Arya placed her hands on her chest and lifted herself up so that she stared down into his eyes. "You have been the friend and companion that I have needed. You give without expecting anything in return, and you have helped me to face the worst experience of my life. I was able to sleep peacefully after showing you that which I had held back."

Eragon smiled at her. "I am glad, Arya. You have been through enough. I hope that Gil'ead never again troubles you."

Arya blinked once. "It will," she said, sure of what she spoke. "But, next time it does, at least I'll have you to help me through it."

It was then that Saphira brushed against their thoughts. The dragon gave a small snort and then said, _I __considered waking you awhile ago, but you looked so cute together. Was it so cold last night that you had to snuggle up together for body heat?_

_Saphira..._ Eragon warned.

_What? _she demanded.

_Saphira, _Arya repeated, lowering herself back to Eragon's side. _Please look into Eragon's memories of last night before you tease. _

Eragon felt Saphira sifting through his thoughts, and then he felt her guilt seep across their link as she realized what had happened. _Sorry, _the dragon muttered. It was one of the first times Eragon had heard her apologize without being sarcastic. _I am glad that you finally confided in someone about this. It must have been a terrible burden to bear alone. But, _Saphira added in a victorious tone. _That does not explain why you are still cuddled up! _

_True, _Arya admitted. _I suppose that I am enjoying the feeling of being close with someone. I haven't really experienced it before. Not even with Faolin._

Eragon felt amusement from Saphira. _Well, when you decide that it is time to go, I will be ready. _She withdrew her mind, leaving Eragon alone with Arya once more.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes, but then Arya finally said, "We really should go. Regardless of how good of a pillow you make, I've been bedridden for far too long. And besides," she said, sniffing the air. "You need a bath."

Eragon laughed.


	7. Chapter 7: The Day Before

Chapter 7: The Day Before

Eragon scratched his forehead as he listened to Nasuada's various commanders bicker about minor strategies and things that would be better left to each commander to decide as the battle went on. He was in the final war council before the Battle of Belatona, which was scheduled to take place the day after. The Varden were finishing the final assembly of their siege machines.

It was a little over a fortnight since Arya's injury, and she had recovered fully. She sat close to Eragon's side, so close, in fact, that her leg rubbed against his if either of them shifted. If she had initiated such contact two weeks earlier, Eragon would have been confused and nervous about it, but much had changed in those two weeks.

Instead of marching with the Varden like she usually did, she had opted to fly with Eragon and Saphira the entire time. The experience gave her and Eragon plenty of time to talk. In the two weeks since her injury he learned more about her than he had from the time he rescued her.

He had also noticed that Arya seemed almost…attached to him. She spent most of her days with him, only really leaving to attend to errands, attend to her personal hygiene, and to sleep. Sometimes she even slept on his shoulder as he leaned against Saphira's sky and watched the stars.

Eragon had been pleasantly surprised by the change as it had happened. He occasionally allowed himself to think that he might be making progress in his suit with Arya, but decided to accept their elevated level of friendship for what it was and to not press his case. Saphira had praised his "rare burst of intelligence," as she put it, on the matter.

Eragon blinked twice as someone asked him for his opinion on a subject. Glancing from the commander, to Arya, and then to Nasuada, he said casually, "I mean no disrespect, but I really do not care which street your force decides to push on. The decision should be made during the battle when you can assess your options and make an informed decision, not while sitting in a meeting with absolutely no idea what sort of defense will be on each of the streets. Let's focus on the bigger picture."

Clapping his hands a few times, Orrin said, "Well, at least one of us has the balls to speak his mind on this matter." Nasuada coughed suggestively, and Orrin blushed. "I'm just being honest." Eragon noted the faint trace of amusement that graced Arya's faced.

"Let's move on," said Nasuada pointedly. "What will our response be to their trebuchets and catapults? It would be difficult to hit them with our own because we will be unable to see them."

_I will destroy them, _said Saphira. Eragon repeated her words.

"Will your fire be able to harm them if they have wards?" Nasuada asked. The commanders listened with interest. Most of them knew little of magic, or dragons in general.

Eragon shook his head. "No, but let's just say that Saphira has a few tricks up her sleeve."

"She doesn't have sleeves," Arya pointed out. Several of the men laughed at her joke.

Eragon's cheeks turned pink as he blushed in embarrassment, nudging Arya with his leg, hard. "Nonetheless," Eragon said tiredly. "We should be able to destroy them without a problem."

"I think the only thing that remains is the gate then," Orrin stated. "Will we be ramming it like usual, or is there some special tactic that you have in mind?"

"The ramming method costs many lives," Roran pointed out.

Nasuada nodded to Angela, who had been invited to the meeting. "Angela has recreated something similar to what Roran encountered at Carvahall. Roran," she prompted.

He nodded. "The Ra'zac possessed some sort of explosive device. It blew through our wall of trees like they weighed nothing, and it was only a small flask of the compound."

"Based on what Roran was able to tell me, and also Eragon's account of his experiences with what the Ra'zac use, I've been able to recreate the substance, although it probably isn't exactly the same," Angela added.

"And are you sure that this will be strong enough to blow through the gate?" Arya inquired.

Angela shook her head. "Not at all. It might do nothing. I don't think it's even been tested in such a large quantity. If it does work though, it'll make our job a great deal easier."

"We try it," Nasuada declared. "I want us to be prepared to use the battering ram if it should fail."

Their meeting continued on in that fashion for the remainder of the day, and even into the night. It seemed like every time the last topic was discussed, someone would find something else that they wanted to talk about. Eragon eventually excused himself and Saphira. Arya chose to do the same and she met him outside the tent.

Noting the fading daylight he sighed and motioned in the general direction of the elves' tents. "Come on."

They began walking towards their tents in silence, both exhausted from the day's proceedings, and the battle hadn't even started. Eragon was quickly forced to close his mind off to those around him. The emotions and feelings he was gleaning from consciousnesses were very overwhelming at the time. Many of the families were saying their goodbyes, not knowing whether or not they would live to see each other again. As such, they tended to be engaging in more physical ways of expressing their love, and out of respect the only decent thing Eragon could do was close his mind.

As soon as they arrived Eragon entered his tent, and Arya followed, apparently wanting to talk about something. With an exasperated grumble she allowed herself to fall backwards onto the makeshift bed, bouncing slightly as she landed. "I don't want to imagine how tired I'll be after the real battle if a meeting took that much out of me."

Eragon grunted in acknowledgment, stripping off the belt of Beloth the Wise, which held Brisingr's sheath, and tossing it to the side. He kicked off his boots and took a seat next to where Arya was laying. He said, "I think Saphira and I are going to go straight to sleep. I want to be as well rested as possible for the battle." Arya lifted her head up to look at him and nodded.

Instead of getting up, she stared at the blue ceiling of the tent and said, "Remember that night a couple weeks ago?"

He knew exactly what night she was talking about, and he fervently hoped that she hadn't changed her mind about not being angry because of it. "Of course," he responded with a guarded expression. Arya unbuckled the clasp of her sword belt as Eragon had, letting it fall to the side. When she slid under the blanket of the bed he asked in shock, "Are you suggesting…?"

Arya shrugged. "Why not?"

(Arya) **

Arya stared at Eragon, who was sitting next to her. She knew he wouldn't say no to her suggestion, but it was rather amusing to have to convince him of it.

She wished that she could just tell him the truth, that she loved him, which was something that she had recently discovered, but she had promised herself that she would wait until after the war unless extreme circumstances presented themselves.

Arya was able to look past all the differences she used to deny him at the Agaetí Blödhren, but she could not justify distracting him from his duties for mere personal satisfaction, no matter how much she desired it. However, she had noticed that as she continued to spend more time with Eragon and grow closer and closer, her attitude on the matter shifted more and more.

In fact, that argument had almost become non existent in the last day or two. She knew she might have been able to get away with telling Eragon the truth, but she also knew that her mother would not approve of them being together until after the war, and having Eragon lose her support or trust while trying to fight Galbatorix could prove catastrophic. She knew that if they got together, it would only be a matter of hours before Islanzadí found out.

Thus, she had decided it was best to not tell him, at least not yet.

Arya was brought back to reality as Eragon sighed. He said in almost an amused tone, "I'm fine with it."

Arya smiled at him as he climbed into the bed next to her, and she almost laughed at how he made sure he kept a distance between them. _If only he knew, _she wished to herself. She scooted over closer to him and laid against his side with her head up on his shoulder.

And so it was, that on the night before a battle, the two Shadeslayers slept in complete peace.

(Murtagh)**

Murtagh stood beside Thorn, staring out at the plains before them. They were camped due east of Belatona, along with around twenty thousand reinforcements from Galbatorix's army.

In the scrying mirror before him, a manipulative and strong voice said, "Remember, wait until that idiot has wasted most of his energy against the city. I have given you more than enough Eldunarí to overpower him, and any other elves that might be assisting him."

"What about the people in the city? Should we just let them die while Eragon and Saphira slay them?" Murtagh asked incredulously.

"They can burn," he hissed. "They chose to ignore my summons for the Burning Planes, and now they will pay the price."

Murtagh swallowed. "Yes, King Galbatorix."

"I'll join you in Belatona soon. I'm leaving tonight."

"What?" Murtagh asked in shock. "You're coming here?"

"Someone has to clean up your mess if you fail, and this blue dragon and her rider are trying my patience."

"But, master, you'll be considerably weaker if you leave the capital. Without the Eldunarí…"

Galbatorix waved his hand. "I'll be taking more than enough to appear as a god before him. Do not worry yourself. Just do yourself a favor and don't fail tomorrow."

The mirror faded to black, and then returned to its original reflective surface. Murtagh grimaced.

(Neutral)**

Somewhere in the Spine, an ancient and powerful voice thought to itself, _And now, the battle for the future begins. Our only hope will arrive soon, but his success is uncertain. The future is clouded._


	8. Chapter 8: Sparkling Ruby

Chapter 8: Sparkling Ruby

Eragon opened his eyes slowly, noting that the only lighting was given by the moon. He sighed to himself, knowing that in only a few short hours he would once again be forced into the chaos of war.

_Morning, _Saphira said in his mind.

Eragon yawned. _How long did I sleep?_

_Almost the entire night. _She sent him an image of a faint yellow and orange smudge on the eastern horizon.

They stayed like that for awhile. Eragon watched the sunrise through Saphira, as he was unable to get up without waking Arya, who was sleeping next to him. Saphira eventually broke the silence. _Eragon, pray tell, why is Arya sleeping with you? _Eragon could sense the amusement in her thoughts.

_Your guess is as good as mine, _he replied.

_Why don't you ask her then? _

_Hmm, _Eragon mused. _If she wanted to tell me I think she already would have. I might ask after the battle. For now, though, I think it would be best to focus on more important matters._

_You're starting to sound more and more mature every day, _Saphira said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

_And that bothers you?_

_Sometimes, _she admitted. _A part of me will always miss the innocent and clueless farm boy that I hatched for. _Eragon smiled. _Come, it is time._

Eragon glanced down at the elf in his arms. Her head was resting on his shoulder and she had one of her arms wrapped around his chest. He, in turn, had one of his arms wrapped around her back. It was such a perfect moment for him that he didn't want to ruin it by waking Arya.

With a long sigh he shook Arya slightly with the arm he had wrapped around her. Her eyes opened almost instantly, and she smiled faintly at Eragon when she saw him looking down at her. "It is time," Eragon said simply.

Arya's smile instantly disappeared, replaced by a small frown and her usual serious expression. Without a word she got up and strapped her sword back onto her belt. While Eragon did the same, Arya walked over to his mirror and fixed her hair, arranging it so that it would not get in her way.

Eragon chose to forgo most of his armor, trusting his wards to keep him protected. In the previous battle his armor had only slowed him down, as the only injuries he had sustained had been from weapons equipped to circumvent wards. He did, however, take his shield. It had always come in handy, and he often wished for one when he didn't have it with him. Arya chose to do the same, and Eragon almost mentioned it to her, but stayed his tongue. He knew exactly what her reaction would be if he questioned her ability to protect herself.

Eragon stopped before the exit to his tent, noting that Arya was right beside him. He turned to the side and met her gaze, surprised to see her eyes bright with suppressed emotion. She placed a hand on his arm and said softly, "Eragon, please promise me that you will stay safe…for me."

He pulled her into a light embrace. "Wiol ono. I expect you to return unharmed as well." She nodded, a small smile on her face.

Eragon released Arya and left the tent, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Something about Arya's behavior seemed very odd to him. With a shake of his head he glanced around and took in his surroundings.

The elves were all moving around, busy arming themselves or casting wards. Saphira stood alone off to the side. She was watching the sunrise. There were only a few humans left around that area. It seemed most of them had already formed ranks.

Arya joined him outside the tent as he spotted Nasuada, Orrin, Roran, and Jörmundur riding towards him. They were accompanied by at least fifty guards, most of which were Nighthawks.

The cluster of horses skidded to a stop a few feet from Eragon, shying away from Saphira, who had turned her gaze towards the approaching group. Only Snowfire, Roran's horse, appeared at ease around the dragoness. He calmly approached Eragon and nuzzled his arm with his nose.

Stroking the horse behind the ear, Eragon directed his voice at Nasuada and Orrin. "Are we ready?"

"Yes," Nasuada replied quickly, appearing apprehensive. Her arms appeared fully healed. "We just had to make sure you and Saphira were ready before we charge. Those catapults must be taken out quickly to minimize our losses."

Eragon glanced from Saphira, to Arya, and then to Blödhgarm. The elves had finished their preparations and were standing behind him and Arya, looking fiercer then an entire army of Kull. Each of them gave him a slight nod, and he said, "We're ready. Sound the charge." He turned his head to Roran. "Guard yourself well, brother." Roran nodded, a grim expression on his face.

"Remember," Nasuada added. "Contact Angela after the catapults are destroyed so we know when to blast the doors. I've put her in charge of the entire operation."

"Very well."

Nasuada and the others rode away, hurriedly trying to get back to the center of the Varden. Eragon jumped onto Saphira's back, but she didn't take off right away. Looking down at his guards and Arya he said, "Assuming this explosion Angela has created works, we'll meet you inside the gate as soon as we're done with the catapults. I'll have my barriers up, but have either Blödhgarm or Arya contact me if something is wrong." The elves nodded their agreement, and Saphira raised her wings in preparation to take off.

Eragon cast one last look at Arya as Saphira jumped into the sky, flapping furiously and roaring a mighty challenge towards the city of Belatona. As she flew toward the city he heard Nasuada shouting words of encouragement below, and then "Charge!"

A huge wave of noise splashed over Eragon's ears as the Varden roared and rushed forward, sprinting towards the walls of Belatona. The battle had begun.

Eragon withdrew into his own mind and erected his barriers. He was not going to be dealing with any magicians while focusing on the catapults, so it was more of an annoyance to listen to the thoughts of every waking man in the vicinity.

Eragon shifted in the saddle to compensate as Saphira banked to the left, avoiding a volley of several dozen arrows fired from soldiers on Belatona's ramparts. As Eragon glanced down for the first time he was able to get a good idea of how the battle would take place. There were twelve siege machines under the Empire's control, scattered in groups of three throughout Belatona. He spotted several thousand men holding their position inside the city, using the streets to make it so the Varden would be less able to overwhelm them. It seemed they expected the main gate to fall quickly.

Belatona's design was similar to Tierm's. The buildings closest to the outer wall were the closest to the ground, meaning the Varden would have to deal with constant pressure from enemy archers moving from building to building. He was even able to spot several planks stretched between rooftops, providing the Empire's archers a chance to escape and reposition themselves.

_They're extremely fortified, _he mentioned to Saphira. She growled an acknowledgment.

He was forced to lean to the side again as Saphira banked to the right to dodge a flaming boulder fired from one of the Empire's catapults. Eragon turned his head and watched the boulder smash into the Varden, killing several people instantly. The missiles wouldn't have been as devastating if the Empire hadn't taken the time to round them enough so that they rolled for a time after impacting. Eragon was forced to watch dozens more get crushed by the enormous rolling object before it finally ran out of momentum.

Saphira finally reached the wall of the city and she pulled up sharply, hanging in the air several hundred feet above the terrified soldiers below. With a massive roar she arched her neck back, drawing on the fire within her belly.

She stayed like that for several seconds, arrows clattering harmlessly off of Eragon's wards. Finally, when she at last was satisfied, she flung her head towards the nearest group of catapults and spat out an enormous raging fireball.

Eragon heard cries of shock and fear below as men hurriedly rushed away from the devices, but it was too late. The flaming projectile crashed into the wooden catapults and exploded, sending shrapnel and body parts flying in every direction.

A deafening roar sounded from the Varden's men, praising Saphira's accomplishment. They might not have been able to see over the wall, but they could definitely hear the explosion and the cries from the Empire's men.

Saphira and Eragon repeated their feat with the other three groups of catapults, destroying the enemies' entire arsenal of long ranged weapons. Reaching out to Angela's consciousness, Eragon said, _It's done. Destroy the gate._

_Don't you think you're showing off just a little? _Angela asked, amused. Eragon cut off the connection, not in the mood to joke. He did not find amusement in death.

Saphira angled herself downwards and sped over one of the Empire's most fortified streets, blasting it with a torrent of ravenous flames, killing hundreds. _How silly, _she remarked as she flew back over the Varden. _Their wards against my fire are pathetically weak._

_It almost seems as if Galbatorix has abandoned them, _Eragon observed. He reached out and blasted through the barriers of one of Nasuada's guards. _Tell Nasuada to try to get as many to surrender as possible. Their wards are pathetically weak. I don't think Galbatorix has invested anything in this fight, so let's keep the deaths to a minimum. _He left the man's mind before he could be asked any questions.

Eragon withdrew his bow from one of the saddlebags, occupying himself with shooting down as many archers as he could. Between each shot he would glance to the side to monitor a group of Varden hurrying a massive cauldron of bubbling liquid towards the gate, curious as to what exactly was about to happen.

A few minutes later his question was answered. The Varden placed the cauldron in the front of the door and retreated at least thirty feet. As soon as they were at a safe distance the concoction suddenly exploded with such a force that Eragon had to cover his ears.

Chunks of the door and parts of the wall were blasted everywhere, injuring several on both sides. Apparently Angela had misjudged the required safe distance. Either way, Eragon was impressed. It might not have been quite as effective as Saphira's fireball, but it was a perfect weapon for removing a static defense.

Below, Eragon watched as the Varden flowed through the broken gate like water. They quickly took up positions on each of the streets and began to push the Empire back. He and Saphira were about to fly down and join them, but were stopped as a challenging roar echoed across the plains, and it wasn't from Saphira.

Dreading what he would see, Eragon slowly turned in the saddle to determine what it was. Sure enough, like a sparkling ruby against the blue sky, hung Thorn. Saphira turned herself around and retaliated with her own roar, releasing a jet of fire to out do what Thorn had already done.

Eragon groaned as he noticed the sea of red and black below Murtagh. At least twenty thousand fully armed soldiers marched in perfectly formed ranks below the red dragon. He immediately sought out Arya with his mind, and was alarmed to find her barriers weakened and her strength fading. _What happened? _he asked hastily, almost forgetting Murtagh and Thorn in his concern.

_We were hit by three of the boulders from the catapults before you destroyed them. Nobody was injured, but it took an immense amount of strength to repel them with our wards. _Eragon felt a flow of energy through their link, and he channeled it into Aren. _That is the remainder of our strength. We will have to retreat for a short time to recover. Luck is not on our side today. _Eragon felt her hesitate. _I'm sorry, Eragon. You'll have to face him alone._

_Don't worry about that, _he said confidently, when in reality he was skeptical of his chances against Murtagh without the help of the elves. _Just keep yourselves safe. I'll take care of Murtagh. _Eragon broke off the contact, concerned. Saphira began to pump her wings furiously as she closed in on Murtagh and Thorn. She didn't wait for any half-hearted words between Eragon and Murtagh, instead opting to launch a fireball at the duo while bellowing, _Oath breakers! Murderers!_

Thorn nimbly dodged the fireball at a speed that shocked Eragon. Even Saphira, who was quite a bit older than Thorn, could rarely move that quickly without the aid of the wind. 

Her fireball, however, forced Thorn to move out of his position and she easily gained the early advantage in the fight, flying downwards and crashing into Thorn.

Eragon quickly drew Brisingr and blocked a blow from Murtagh. He retaliated with his own slash, but it missed its target due to the flailing dragons and only managed to cut Thorn slightly on his shoulder, a minor wound.

Saphira and Thorn disengaged and flapped furiously to avoid crashing into the ground. There was a slash on Thorn's belly, and Eragon felt more confident after seeing it, but then he realized that Saphira had been scratched deeply on her side, hampering her movement.

Eragon quickly decided to heal Saphira as she regained her altitude, allowing her to be at full strength for the next meeting. _This energy from Aren and Brisingr won't last us long, _he reminded Saphira. They were going to have to defeat Thorn and Murtagh in a timely fashion if they wanted to stand a chance.

Eragon gritted his teeth as the dragons collided once again, bracing himself against the neck spike in front of him. He caught Zar'roc on his shield, noting how the sword embedded itself in the metal. Using Murtagh's grip on Zar'roc against him, he pulled Murtagh closer and stabbed at his chest, intending to end the fight in a single blow.

Just before his sword could connect, however, Murtagh yanked Zar'roc to the side, cutting into Saphira's shoulder with the blade and dislodging it from Eragon's shield. Both Eragon and Saphira yelped in pain, and it caused Eragon to lose focus on his sword strike.

Saphira kicked Thorn away before Murtagh could retaliate, but Eragon could tell that she was tiring quickly. Thorn was fighting much more effectively than their previous encounters.

Saphira tried to flap up once again, but was met by Thorn before she could reach his altitude. Thorn attacked her from above, forcing her to fall towards the ground belly up, giving him a huge advantage.

Eragon watched in horror as Saphira lunged forward with her head to try to snap at Thorn's neck, but was met by a sword to the nose from Murtagh. Thorn retaliated quicker than Eragon could counter and bit into Saphira's wing, tearing massive holes in the membrane.

Saphira roared as Thorn yanked his head to the side, slashing her wing in half. He kicked her away and flapped a few times to steady himself, allowing Eragon and Saphira to fall to the ground.

Saphira tried flapping to steady them, but was unable to. She could still move her wing, albeit very painfully, but it was unable to catch the wind with the massive slash in the middle. Eragon muttered furiously in the Ancient Language to heal the wound, doing his best to not panic about the approaching ground.

He managed to heal the wound before they hit the ground, but it wasn't soon enough for Saphira to stop her fall alone. She tried to flap, slowing them down, but Eragon was forced to reach into Aren's reserves and shout, "Letta!"

Eragon felt the energy flowing out of him alarmingly fast, but it was enough to slow their fall so that they were not injured as Saphira crashed into the ground. Thorn landed moments later.

As Murtagh approached them, Zar'roc in hand, Eragon took what he could from Brisingr and Aren, which was just enough to restore him to full strength, but without any more reserves. He leaped off of Saphira, and confronted Murtagh on the ground.

They stood some fifteen feet apart, neither moving. Eragon was grateful for the pause, for it gave him a chance to calm his racing thoughts and focus on the fight. Murtagh then spoke for the first time that day. "Surrender, _brother_. You cannot hope to compete with me."

"I am not your brother," Eragon spat. "Morzan was not my father."

Murtagh's eyes widened and he appeared disappointed. With a shake of his head he said, "It does not matter. Surrender now and save yourself the pain of being broken by Galbatorix. He has given me enough hearts to defeat you with my eyes closed."

"Power is not everything," Eragon replied, trying to appear confident.

Murtagh shrugged. "Even if you somehow got lucky and won, Galbatorix is flying here right now. Apparently he has grown tired of waiting. Please, brother, join me in serving him."

"You serve him willingly now?" Eragon asked, shocked.

"I do." Murtagh confirmed. "I wish I had made the choice far sooner as well. Galbatorix rewards his allies greatly. He is prepared to offer you almost anything you could want. The only condition is that Saphira must mate with Thorn."

Saphira hissed. Eragon hefted his sword. "We will never serve you."

Murtagh sighed, raising Zar'roc before him. "You'll regret that decision." He leaped forward and struck at Eragon.

Eragon was able to easily parry the blow and retaliate with his own series of strikes, but they were all blocked by Murtagh. Their fight quickly began to resemble one of their duels on their trek to Gil'ead over a year ago. Their skill with the blade was as close to equal as possible, and with both of their enhanced abilities, neither was able to find a weakness.

That was, however, until Eragon began to run low on energy. Murtagh quickly gained the upper hand and scored several minor blows on Eragon. Eragon grimaced and attempted to retaliate, but Murtagh crashed Zar'roc into Brisingr with all of his strength, knocking it out of Eragon's hand.

Eragon tried to reach for Brisingr, but Murtagh held Zar'roc to his throat. "Last chance," Murtagh warned. "Just surrender and we can pretend this entire fight did not happen. You don't have to be miserable for the rest of your life." Eragon spat at him, and Saphira blasted a torrent of fire towards Murtagh, but it was blocked by his wards.

_What now? _Eragon asked Saphira in a dreadful tone, knowing what was about to happen.

"Let's go," said Murtagh, nudging Eragon with Zar'roc. "I've got some chains back at my camp and we need to drug you, of course."

"I'll never go wi-" Eragon was cut off as one of Saphira's saddlebags began glowing with a bright golden light.

"Could it be?" Murtagh asked, interested in what it was. He kicked Eragon once, knocking him back to the ground, and approached Saphira, muttering a word of binding in the Ancient Language so that she could not eat him.

As he approached the bag it flashed with a blinding light and Eragon felt magic tugging at his body. It felt as if he was being pulled apart and put back together. The experience drained the last of his energy and his world faded to black before he could even figure out what happened.


	9. Chapter 9: Utgard

Chapter 9: Utgard

Eragon groaned as he regained consciousness, feeling rather weak. Images of his fight with Murtagh flashed before his eyes. He instinctively touched one of his wrists, feeling for any chains that might be restraining him. Surprised to find no such bonds, he snapped his eyes open, looking around quickly.

He was in an enormous hallway, large enough for a full grown dragon to move around comfortably. It sort of felt like a cell, but there was no cot, and no door in sight. No prisoner would be given so much space. Curious, he tried to light a flame with magic, expecting his effort to fail because of a drug.

A small, bright flame lit up and hovered over his right palm, illuminating the walls. It took him a moment to realize that he was not a prisoner. If he had been captured by Murtagh and Galbatorix there would be no way they would forget to drug him. Curious, and also extremely wary, he approached the nearest wall, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, which was still strapped to his waist.

What he saw left him awestruck. There, upon the twenty foot high walls of the hallway, were enormous, extremely detailed, paintings of dozens of dragons and riders. _Saphira!_ he exclaimed. _Look at this!_

It was at that moment that Eragon realized what was out of place. Saphira was not with him. He frantically extended his mind to its limits in search of her familiar thoughts, but was unable to locate her.

Unbidden, a memory of the last moments before he blacked out sprung forth in his mind. He saw him and Saphira defeated, and, just as they were about to be taken prisoner by Murtagh, Glaedr began to glow in the saddlebags.

He had no memories past that point. Utterly confused, and terribly concerned for Saphira's welfare, he slumped against the wall, suddenly uninterested in the artwork before him. _Could I be dead? _he wondered. After all, it seemed like he was the only one for miles in any direction.

Eragon remained sitting against the wall for a time. It took him several hours, but he eventually regained the strength and will to explore, so he pushed himself upright, lighting his sword with magic to serve as his torch.

He made his way down the hallway, noting the dozens of dragons painted on the walls. A strange thought formed in his mind. _It seems like white dragons were especially rare. I have only seen two painted here out of many. _With a shake of his head he began walking more quickly, eager to find a way out of the strange place.

The hallway ended a few steps later. A massive double door, formed out of pure stone, blocked the way. Eragon tried to push it open, but with his pathetically low reserves of energy he was unable to move it at all.

Frustrated, he stepped back and examined the door, surprised to see a message carved in the Ancient Language.

_Utgard, Stronghold of the Riders._

_Voice your allegiance and be granted entry._

_Utgard!_ Eragon thought, no less confused than he had been before. _Well, at least I know where I am now._

"Speak your allegiance?" he mumbled verbally, unsure of what exactly it was asking for. Shrugging, he switched to the Ancient Language and said, "I am Eragon Shadeslayer, rider of the dragon Saphira."

Nothing happened for a long moment. Eragon was about to give up and try something else, but then a faint _crack!_ echoed through the hall. The massive stone doors slowly began to slide open, revealing an enormous chamber.

Eragon stepped through the doors, spinning in a full circle to take in the sight of the room. There was an enormous, thirty foot circular stone table in the center. It was crumbled and shattered, but large chunks of it remained to serve as a permanent reminder of what once served as the masterpiece of a fantastic room.

Like the hallway, the walls were decorated with color paintings of glorious feats by several riders. The room itself was at least a hundred feet in diameter, and at least fifty feet high. Eragon guessed that it served as a meeting place for the Riders. There were two other large tunnels like the one Eragon had come through. They were located on the walls to his left and right. The far wall had dozens of small openings, likely to some sort of living space.

Despite all the grandeur, one thing in particular caught Eragon's attention. He stifled a series of curses as he beheld an enormous dragon skeleton lying in the corner of the room. There were dozens of snow white scales littered around the corpse. Eragon knew at once what he was looking at. It was the hundred year old remains of Vrael and his dragon.

He approached the remains with his head lowered respectfully, noticing a much smaller, human shaped skeleton leaning against the dragon. The flesh had completely decomposed on both of their bodies.

A sparkle of light caught Eragon's attention. He almost gasped as he realized that Vrael's sword was still in its sheath, apparently undamaged. The sheath had fallen off of his belt, which had long since decomposed, but the sword itself was intact.

Eragon reached out his hand to grasp the sword, but halted a second before touching it, unsure of whether or not he should move it. After a moment's thought, he decided that the blade should be returned to the elves and preserved as a memory of Vrael and his dragon. Frankly, he wondered why Galbatorix did not take the sword himself.

Brushing away the many ideas that were forming in his mind, he wrapped his hand around the hilt of Vrael's sword. As his hand touched the sword he felt an enormous and powerful consciousness touch his own mind. He instinctively yanked his hand back, but it did not break the contact.

The strange being pressed in a non threatening way against Eragon's barriers, requesting entrance. Eragon hesitantly lowered his walls, knowing that he would be unable to resist the being in his current state anyway.

_Who are you? _Eragon dared to ask.

_Kuthian, _replied a strong, ancient male voice. Eragon shrank back as he recognized the name from Solembum's message. _You are Eragon Shadeslayer, correct?_

_How do you know my name? _he asked, suddenly afraid.

_I have been watching you for over a year, ever since Saphira's egg hatched for you only a few miles from where we are now._

_That's right! _Eragon exclaimed. _We're near Carvahall. _His elated mood faded quickly as he remembered that Carvahall had been destroyed by the Empire. _Do you know where Saphira is? _he asked the being, hoping for a solid answer. It was taking a heavy toll on his mental acuity to be constantly worrying about her.

_She was captured by Murtagh. Glaedr did not have enough strength to transport both you and her to me._

_Glaedr?_

_Yes, _Kuthian rumbled. _He used the last of his energy to transport you to Utgard._

_The last of his energy…? _Eragon asked uncertainly. There was no reply from Kuthian.

Eragon fell to his knees, devastated. The loss of Oromis had been difficult enough to deal with, but he knew that Glaedr had remained to help him and Saphira. Now that Glaedr was gone too…

_Who, what are you exactly? _Eragon asked, suddenly bitter and hostile.

_Peace youngling. I am Vrael's dragon._

_But...how? _Eragon stammered.

_Perhaps I should start from the beginning. There is much you do not know._

_Wait. First tell me about Saphira and the Varden. I must know of their condition._

_As I said, Saphira was captured by Murtagh and Thorn. You have been unconscious for three days in that hallway. Unfortunately Glaedr's instincts only allowed him to transport you close to me. I was unable to directly contact you from my Eldunarí at such a distance._

_And the Varden? _Eragon demanded, not bothering to ask why.

_They were forced to surrender. Galbatorix and Murtagh are currently negotiating the terms of that surrender with Nasuada and the other Varden leaders. The word of the wind is that Galbatorix is holding Saphira and several elves prisoner until you show up._

_Galbatorix is negotiating with them?_

_Yes and no. He is not so mad that he would pass up an opportunity to permanently end both the Varden's rebellion and the elves' hiding. If he can strike a decent enough deal with Nasuada and Islanzadí he might avoid killing the entire Varden and enraging the public beyond their current state._

_If they are waiting for me I should go…_

_No! _Kuthian exclaimed. _Wait until I have told you all there is to know. _

Eragon hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the door behind him. He yearned to return to Saphira and Arya, who was undoubtedly one of the elves Galbatorix was holding prisoner, but his training told him to wait and listen to Kuthian.

_Very well. I shall listen. _

_Do not be discouraged by current events. There is still hope. Take my rider's sword with you and make yourself comfortable, my story is long and sad, but it contains the answers you have been searching for._

_The sword? Why?_

_It is not an average rider's blade. The gemstone embedded in the hilt is my Eldunarí. I accidentally disgorged it while I was younger._

Eragon picked up the blade carefully, examining the hilt with wonder. Kuthian was telling the truth. His miniature Eldunarí sparkled like no diamond ever could. He was about to ask a question about it, but Kuthian cut him off. _No, no questions. Sit and listen. _Eragon grunted and sat against an enormous chunk of rock, making himself as comfortable as possible.

_Now, _began Kuthian. _I'm going to start from the very beginning, and I expect you to hold your questions until I finish._

_I will do my best, _promised Eragon.

_Millennia ago, shortly after the Riders were originally created, your namesake and his dragon were faced with a traitorous Rider who was stronger than Eragon. They defeated him, of course, with the help of the other Riders, but the occasion helped Eragon realize that the leader of the Riders would need some sort of extra power to ensure that he was able to maintain peace. And so it was, on the one hundredth anniversary of the Riders, in a private ceremony, the dragon-whose-name-cannot-be-expressed-in-any-language gifted Eragon with two necklaces. The first necklace was enchanted to hold the raw magical power of the dragons. There's no easy or measurable way of expressing how strong it was, but the power it offered is still unrivaled by anything except the hundreds of Eldunarí that Galbatorix has collected. _

_This power came with a price, the fact that a human or elf could not repeatedly use the necklace without risking their sanity. The power of the wild dragons is beyond comprehension for anything but a dragon. Thus, the second necklace gifted to Eragon was actually for his mate. The second necklace was designed to balance the power of the first. It had the power to restore the lead Rider to his normal state. _

_These necklaces can only be worn by their true owners; the lead Rider and his mate. The requirement for the second necklace is not technically being the mate of the lead Rider, but it is much easier to say. It can only be worn by someone that shares a deep bond of trust and love with the lead Rider. This was to prevent any misuse of either necklace, as the bond between the lead Rider and his mate must be mutual._

_Fortunately for us, the risk to the lead Rider is very minor for the first usage, and increases steadily each time he uses the necklace without having a mate. Therefore, you will be able to use this to your advantage whether you have a mate or not._

_While using this power, you remain in complete control of yourself and it only enhances what you can already do. The power itself is so vast that I would venture on saying unlimited, but it has never been tested against hundreds of Eldunarí before, so I cannot be certain that it is strong enough for you to solely rely on it when fighting Galbatorix._

_These necklaces worked flawlessly up until Galbatorix's uprising. They would have succeeded in stopping Galbatorix as well had he not been granted a whim of fate. Vrael's mate died from an incurable illness only four years before Galbatorix revealed himself. As such, with the mental state he was in, Vrael knew that he could not use the necklaces without the risk of becoming far worse than Galbatorix could have ever been. _

_Gifted, as you are, with frequent premonitions, Vrael saw into the future and witnessed a white dragon flying alongside a blue one. They were fighting against Galbatorix. At the time, all of the blue dragons had already been slain, so we knew that it was a vision of the future, which meant that we would fall to Galbatorix._

_I don't understand, _Eragon interrupted. _If your vision was of the future, how can there have been a white and blue dragon in it? The final dragon egg is green according to Oromis and Glaedr, and there are no white dragons in existence._

_I told you to hold your questions, _Kuthian grumbled. _Still, it is a good point. No, there are no white dragons left, none that are hidden that will suddenly fly to your aid. Instead, you will become the white dragon._

_What?!_

_I will explain in full when I am finished with my story, now please hold your tongue. _When Eragon did not retort, Kuthian continued in a satisfied tone. _In our final act to defy Galbatorix, Vrael and I retreated to Utgard and hid the necklaces here. Galbatorix never sought them out because he had no idea they even existed. Nobody other than the lead rider, his mate, his dragon, and in some cases, his mate's dragon, ever knew of them. It has been tradition for the lead rider's dragon to leave behind his or her Eldunarí to inform their successor of the power._

_Now, that is my story, but there are still other things you need to know about. There are several secrets that were known only to the lead Rider, secrets that might help you in your fight against the king. _Eragon began to feel frustration about how he was not already taught these things. _Do not blame your teachers. They taught you what they knew, and they did it even better than I had expected. _

_Anyway, first of all, it is now time for you to understand exactly what happened to you at the Agaetí Blödhren. Your gift from us was not becoming an elf, or even a hybrid of the two races. No, what we did was remove your human characteristics and replace them with what would help you the most. Your body is shaped like an elf, but your muscles are dragon-like, which is why you are stronger and faster than the other elves, but also a bit less flexible. While those changes are significant, the real gift we gave you is twofold. _

_One, we gifted you with the same access to magic as dragons. Do not misunderstand me. The magic you are using is the same, you are just as strong as you would be otherwise, but the ease at which you can access that magic is far beyond any other two-legged creature in the land. Your teachers could not tell you this, for they did not know, but you do not require the Ancient Language to cast spells. Actually, it restricts you. The same is true for your thoughts._

_What you must become accustomed to is using magic without thought. You must disregard all safety precautions that you were taught. They do not apply to you. When dragons accesses magic, we do not think or say what we want to happen, we just _will_ it to happen. How do you think we breath fire? This also means that your magical strength is directly proportional to the strength of your emotions._

Kuthian paused, and then added, _I can explain this again later, and you will have the chance to practice before you fight Galbatorix again, so do not trouble yourself if you do not completely understand what I just said. For now, what you need to remember, is that you are part dragon and part elf, and the dragon part of you allows you to control magic without thought or language._

_Anything else?_

_Yes, in fact. Much more. The second half of your gift is that you are now capable of accessing my true power. Brom once told you that little is known about the abilities of dragons, but that was not entirely true. We, the dragons, have discovered some of our power, but have chosen to keep it quite secret. You might find it interesting to know that a dragon's individual abilities depend significantly on what color their scales are. _

_Take Saphira, for example. Blue dragons have an affinity for the sky. They are usually the best fliers out of all the dragons. They also have a strange ability, but it is difficult to master. On a clear day, when flying at her maximum speed she will appear invisible. The ability is rare, and it is very difficult to master, as she would have to learn how to fly her fastest without slowing down for the entire duration of the time she wishes to disappear. That is, if she even possesses the ability. Even though a dragon might have the color for an ability, it does not mean they can always use it._

_What about the other colors? _Eragon asked.

_Red dragons are typically very successful hunters. Beyond that, we have been unable to discover any other enhanced abilities._

_And black?_

_Black dragons have an ability similar to blue ones. On a dark night they can blend into the sky with near perfection. Fighting a black dragon at night is foolish, no matter how strong you are._

_White dragons, on the other hand, have the most powerful ability, but also the rarest. White dragons themselves are rare to begin with, only a percent or so of all dragons are white, and our ability is ever rarer. When a white dragon has experienced body death and is entombed in his Eldunarí, he is sometimes able to...return._

_What! _Eragon exclaimed. Resurrection of any sort was among the list of forbidden topics of magic. How would it be possible for a dragon to achieve such a feat?

_It's not a resurrection of any sorts considering that the dragon must be alive within its Eldunarí. We do not just magically transform into a dragon, but instead we infuse another life form with our presence and we are temporarily able to form a symbiosis with that life form. When we do so, the life form we choose to merge with takes on the strength and appearance of our original form, and we are again able to feel the freedom of the winds through that life form's mind._

Eragon was about to interrupted Kuthian again, but Kuthian cut off his attempt. _The problem with this ability, and the reason that it is such a secret, is that none of us have ever successfully merged with a human, elf, or any life form other than a dragon. The result, without fail, has been the serious injury or death of the partner._

_Do you possess this ability?_

_Yes, _Kuthian replied, pride coloring his ancient voice. _And because of that, you now have access to the full abilities of a white dragon. Consider it a gift from your ancestors, with one condition. In exchange for this gift, I require but one promise. You must promise me that after all is said and done with Galbatorix, if I desire it, you will smash my Eldunarí and allow me to join my Rider._

_I will, of course, agree to your terms, but you said that white dragons cannot merge with humans and elves, so how could I even use this power?_

_You are not a human or an elf. You are part dragon. I am certain that you will be able to use this power. _

Eragon considered all that he had learned from Kuthian. He very much wished to not take the risk of using Kuthian's power, but it would very likely be needed to defeat Galbatorix, so he realized that he had no choice but to agree to Kuthian's terms.

_Very well, _he said. _I give you my word that if you ask it of me, I will free you from the prison that is your Eldunarí. _Eragon felt Kuthian hum mentally, content.

_Thank you, and you should know that this bond requires a large amount of energy to maintain, as you are essentially using magic to sustain a dragon's entire form. We could fly to Belatona easily before the strength I have saved over the last hundred years runs out, but then accessing this ability would come at great costs to your own reserves or would require usage of the necklaces, as they would provide the strength needed._

_Where are these necklaces? _Eragon asked. _I think I should collect them and head for Belatona as soon as possible. Saphira and Arya are probably being tortured every moment we delay._

_Arya? _Kuthian asked, interested.

_A friend of mine, _Eragon said simply, not revealing the depth of his affection for her.

_The necklaces are somewhere under the table in the middle of the room. _As Eragon got up and searched the rubble Kuthian asked him a question, instead of it being the other way around. _Do you have anyone that can use the second necklace? A mate, perhaps?_

_No. We'll have to worry about that later. Right now I'm just concerned with saving Saphira before Galbatorix takes her to Urû'baen. Do you think the necklace is strong enough for me to defeat Galbatorix with it?_

_At Belatona, yes. At Urû'baen, however, I am uncertain. You will be fine against both Galbatorix and Murtagh when they are so far from the Eldunarí, but if Galbatorix has full access to over three hundred dragons, even the necklace might not be enough to overpower him._

"Aha!" Eragon exclaimed, pulling out a small box from under a large rock. He opened the lid carefully and gasped as he beheld the two necklaces. They looked almost identical, except one thicker than the other. The chains were golden, but it was not like any gold that Eragon had encountered. This gold sparkled on the inside like a diamond.

At the ends of the chains were identical clear diamonds. They were at least an inch wide, circular in shape, and rather thin. Around the edges were five sparkling bands, one of each gemstone. Sapphire, Emerald, Ruby, Diamond, and Onyx. The five strips were rather narrow. Their combined width was only an eighth of an inch inch. Still, they sparkled like they had been polished only moments before.

_The thicker one is yours, _Kuthian said, seemingly amused by Eragon's awestruck expression.

Eragon reached into the box and touched the clear diamond in the center of his necklace. It pulsed as he touched it and immediately changed colors to a deep blue. Eragon gasped in amazement. He touched the other necklace as well, wondering if it would do the same, but it did not respond to his prodding.

_They change colors to match their owners, _Kuthian explained.

Eragon, grinning like a child, slipped his necklace around his neck. It felt weightless and comfortable against his skin. If he was not looking down at it he would not have even realized he was wearing it.

He tried to put the second one on as well, deciding that the safest place for it would be around his neck, but was unable to. Some sort of magical force prevented him from slipping the chain around his neck.

_Remember, only their owners may wear them. It is so nobody can abuse the power. _Eragon grunted, tucking the necklace in his pocket. He returned to where he had left Vrael's sword, picking it up and strapping it to his belt. Upon examining the sheath he discovered that the sword itself was named Kuthian.

_How odd, _he remarked. _Saphira would have burnt me to a crisp if I named my sword after her. _

_Ah, but you do not have her Eldunarí in the pommel, _Kuthian pointed out.

_True, how did you keep it from being shattered while fighting?_

_Try to touch the Eldunarí part. _Eragon did, but was unable to make contact with the surface. _Vrael put enough wards around it that I sometimes feared he did not have enough protecting his own body._

Eragon chuckled, standing up and beginning to walk towards the door. _We should be off, _he said to Kuthian.

_You wouldn't know it, but the sun set a few minutes ago. Sleep here tonight and regain your strength. We can begin our trip to the Varden tomorrow._

Eragon grumbled, but acquiesced. He laid down, using a rock as a pillow. It wasn't comfortable, but he did not care. All he had to do was picture Arya or Saphira in chains and he was thankful for the extremely hard, unforgiving rock pillow that he had.


	10. Chapter 10: Back at the Varden

Chapter 10: Back at the Varden

Memories of recent events constantly plagued Arya's consciousness. She remembered vividly how Murtagh had slaughtered seven of her companions after Eragon's disappearance, how Nasuada had negotiated a temporary agreement with Galbatorix so that he wouldn't wipe out the Varden, and how she had been thrown back into a cell.

It had been almost a week and nobody had visited her except a terrified looking page that gave her a platter of drug-laced food every day. She would have fasted to avoid the drug's effects, but there was no place in her windowless cell that she could hide the food, so she had no choice but to eat it.

The worst part of the entire experience was not knowing what was happening above, and not being able to do anything about it. She had no information about Eragon's whereabouts, if he was even alive. She did not know what was happening to Saphira, the other elves, Nasuada, and everyone else. It was incredibly frustrating.

Arya's eyes opened quickly as the lock to her cell door was removed. She sat up straight on the small cot she had been given, preparing to meet whoever it was.

She felt a tendril of fear go down her spine as Galbatorix himself stepped into the cell and closed the door behind him. She tried to get up and attack him, for all the good it would do, but was stopped by the chains secured around her wrists.

Galbatorix looked at her with a half sorry, half amused expression. "Don't bother. I just wanted to come and visit you, _princess_. I've heard so much about you." His voice was smooth and rich, but also quite arrogant.

If Arya could go more rigid than she already was, it happened. "How?" she muttered.

"You look like your mother, and one of my spies heard Nasuada accidentally say it."

"You would not be here if you didn't want something," Arya prompted, tired of talking to the snake-tongued devil.

Galbatorix reached into his tunic and produced a key. He tossed it to Arya, who barely managed to catch it, stunned by how quick Galbatorix's movement was. Galbatorix turned his back to her for a moment as he glanced around the cell. "Come, your presence is required."

The time it took Galbatorix to make a full inspection of the room was just enough for Arya to undo her binds and to leap at him, intending to grapple with the king and hopefully secure his sword.

While in mid air, Galbatorix spun to face her faster than she could track with her eyes. His hand shot up and caught her by the neck, and flung her at full force into the nearest wall. "Behave," Galbatorix admonished, ignoring Arya's quick breathing.

When at last she could speak again, she asked, "Why? What do you need me for?"

The king sighed impatiently. "If you must know, Eragon demanded that his guards and you be unharmed upon his arrival. I plan to display you before the Varden to encourage him to surrender." 

"Eragon is still alive? And free?"

That seemed to get on Galbatorix's nerves. "Yes," he snapped. "He has agreed to return to this city in exchange for me not torturing you."

"Why would you, the king of the universe, as you must see it, negotiate with a mere farm boy from Carvahall?" Arya was taunting him now, quickly realizing that his temper was quite short.

It worked, to an extent, as he reached down and picked her up with one hand, holding her by her neck up against the wall effortlessly. "Do not try me, elf. I agreed to Eragon's request because I did not feel like going on a chase around Alagaësia. He is to arrive shortly. I have no further need of his guards, or you even. You are only still alive because I wish to keep my word, and because I don't want to deal with your bitch of a mother complaining about me killing you." His voice had a razor edge that even Arya was frightened by. "I might add," the king continued. "That I still do not have the location of Ellesméra, and I would have no problem with torturing you to find out. Trust me, you would not be able to resist me as you did Durza, and it would be far, far more unpleasant."

Arya gulped at the mention of Durza. She nodded in defeat, causing Galbatorix to release his hold on her neck.

She coughed loudly as she landed on the floor. Galbatorix's hand had nearly crushed her windpipe.

"Now," Galbatorix said. "You might be interested to know that your mother is traveling here to join Nasuada and Orrin in negotiating an agreement to end this war."

"Negotiating?"

"Aye," Galbatorix said with a harsh laugh. "That way, I don't have to kill the entire Varden and make the public angry. I've tried so hard over the last few decades to make them think I'm a good man." His tone was unmistakably sarcastic, but Arya did see the twisted wisdom in his plan.

Galbatorix glanced up, as if he was speaking to someone mentally, and then nodded. "Let's go. He is almost here."

Arya allowed the king to lead her out of the cell and out into the courtyard, not particularly thinking about anything he had said. Her only thoughts at the time were for Eragon. She felt a deep sympathy for him, knowing what he was about to subject himself to on behalf of Alagaësia, and she found herself asking herself another question as well. _Does he still love me? _

She did not know why it was so important to her at the time, but it was. In fact, despite everything going on around her, it was the _only_ thing she cared about.

(Eragon)**

Eragon stood upon the crest of a hill, staring out at the plains before him. He was less than an hour's run from Belatona, but he was waiting for someone. In the distance, perhaps a half league away, Eragon could make out the shapes of fifty or so elves escorting their Queen to Belatona. He knew that negotiations were being held, and that her presence was required for them to begin.

He turned around and stared at Belatona. The city itself was halfway blasted to the ground from the battle that had occurred a week ago. There were tens of thousands of tents set up around the city. On one side were the Varden, and on the other the soldiers of the Empire.

Eragon marveled at how well Nasuada managed to preserve the lives of the Varden, but he was skeptical of how long it could possibly last. He did not expect their negotiations with the King to work. Actually, he wasn't even going to participate in them. His purpose was only to rescue his friends and defeat Murtagh and the King, no matter the cost.

He had managed to arrive at Belatona so quickly by means of flying. Kuthian had convinced him that the best way to ensure that they arrived in time was to fly. He had been forced to run for the last day though, as Kuthian's Eldunarí was running low on energy and he did not want to drain it entirely.

The experience of merging with a dragon, of becoming a dragon, was quite exhilarating. It was similar to when he and Saphira combined their minds and flew together as one, but the sense of having total control was unique. It was always Saphira doing the flying with him experiencing some of the sensations, but now he was able to fly as well. A small smile came to his face as he remembered the last few days of travel.

Eragon allowed himself to daydream about flying with Saphira in a free Alagaësia. He embraced the thoughts, using them to strengthen his resolve and determination. His hopes for the future were the main reason he had been able to stay so calm in the past week, despite all that he held dear being held in the King's grasp. Instead of feeling sorry for himself, he told himself that he was going to free them, and that they would live peacefully when he did. It was true that his dreams had a low probability of coming true, but it kept him calm enough to do what was necessary, which was all that mattered.

In his mind Kuthian said softly, _Your dreams are not as unlikely as you may think. Only Galbatorix and Murtagh stand in your way. _

_Only, _Eragon repeated sarcastically.

_I think you will find that Murtagh will no longer be such a threat to you. Galbatorix will still be more powerful if you fight him at Illeria, but you now at least have a hope of winning. _

_True. Looking back on it, it was quite foolish to think we ever had a chance against the Empire in our previous state._

_Aye, but you cannot fault your leader's decision to move when she did. Given what she knew at the time, it was a fair decision._

_Perhaps; I just wish I knew what I know now. It would have helped greatly. _Kuthian did not reply.

With a sigh, Eragon resumed his waiting for Islanzadí's group of runners to arrive. It took them a bit longer than expected, but soon enough they approached his position.

Eragon had been concealing himself with magic during the time he was standing still. He did not want to be spotted by any scouts of the Empire. Seeing that Islanzadí and her entourage were close enough, he ceased his spell.

The elves, who were only a hundred or so feet away, abruptly halted as he appeared. They drew their swords and approached cautiously.

Eragon glanced around as the elves surrounded him, clearly unsure if he had been forced into Galbatorix's service or not. He stared at Islanzadí, who approached him after a moment's hesitation.

"Eragon-elda, what is the meaning of this? Why are you out here?" 

Lowering his voice to a low whisper so that the other elves could not hear him, he said in the Ancient Language, "Glaedr transported me away before I was captured. I only just managed to return."

"Lower your weapons," Islanzadí commanded to her guards. They reluctantly agreed, but their suspicious faces did not vanish. Directing her words at Eragon, Islanzadí asked, "And why do you return now? For these negotiations?"

"I do not intend to negotiate with a madman holding Saphira, Arya, and the others prisoner. I intend to free them."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Islanzadí asked, obviously doubting him.

"Well, since asking him to leave probably won't work, it seems as if I'll have to fight him," Eragon said in a sarcastic tone.

"That's suicide. You must know that!" Islanzadí sighed. "I want to free Arya as well, but at this point our only hope is to reason with Galbatorix and hope he is in a gracious mood."

"Or kill him," Eragon pointed out. He held up a hand, forestalling Islanzadí's rebuke. "You will fight in your way, and I will fight in mine. I did not wait for you simply to be ridiculed. I wanted to let you know that if I should fall, and if you have the chance, I have left a note in Utgard for you. It can only be read by one of the royal family, so either you or Arya must recover it."

"Why not just tell me what's on it?" Islanzadí demanded.

Eragon gestured at the sun. "I have little time. I managed to get Galbatorix to agree to not torturing any of the prisoners until at least midday today, so I need to arrive before then." Eragon took a deep breath. "The note has several secrets of the Riders. These are secrets that have been unknown to anyone but the lead riders for millennia. Not even Oromis or Glaedr knew of these things."

"And how do you know about them?"

"I'll share that knowledge with you if I win against Galbatorix. If not, it is on the note."

Eragon glanced back at the city behind him. "Come, we need to go. Time is short."

"Wait," Islanzadí said, grasping his shoulder as he was about to run towards the city. "Do you honestly think you can win?"

He turned his head back to her, staring her in the eyes. In the Ancient Language he said, "I don't know." Islanzadí hesitantly released her grip, letting him go.

Eragon began running towards the city, Islanzadí and the elves following close behind. _Saphira, Arya, Roran, I will rescue you._


	11. Chapter 11: Confrontation

Chapter 11: Confrontation

Eragon, Islanzadí, and her group of fifty guards slowly made their way across the plains and approached Belatona. Their pace had been brought to a near standstill when they arrived at the Empire's tents. The soldiers did not attack them, but they did draw their weapons and form a large perimeter around the group of elves, escorting them to the center of the city.

Eragon walked with Brisingr hanging loosely in his grip. He was not holding his sword in a threatening way, which would invite an attack, but he did make sure it was ready if anyone were to strike at him first. He had Vrael's sword, Kuthian, resting comfortably in its sheath alongside Brisingr's sheath. By means of a simple magic spell, he had made the sword appear as nothing more than an ordinary blade to avoid arousing suspicion.

Islanzadí shot Eragon periodic glances, checking with him to make sure nothing was wrong. He knew that she was nervous about what was to come, especially because his planned fight with Galbatorix would definitely not help their case if he were to lose.

Eragon no longer had the luxury of worrying about what would happen if he was wrong. He had one chance to defeat Galbatorix, and he was going to take it.

Glancing around, Eragon recognized many members of the Varden staring at him through the perimeter created by the Empire's men. He could see the anger and sadness in their eyes from their surrender. There were also many women, children, and soldiers of the Empire. He didn't recognize any of them, and they all gave him the same blank stare.

_It's as if they are forced to look at me in a certain way, _he thought with disgust.

The soldiers led them down the largest street in the city, straight to the center. Their escort faded into the crowd as they approached the center of the city. Eragon took in the sight with one glance around. Galbatorix was sitting on a makeshift throne at the opposite side of the courtyard. Murtagh was standing to his right, and both of their dragons stood behind them on either side. To Eragon's right, Saphira was chained to the ground beside the twelve elves that still lived. All of the elves had been placed in stocks. His heart caught as he saw Arya looking at him with an expression of dread and humiliation.

On the left side was a massive crowd, thousands strong, consisting of nobles, Varden members, and people from the Empire. Past allegiances were forgotten and the enemies stood side by side to watch the final hope of Alagaësia face off against the black tyrant.

"Wait here," Eragon commanded, speaking to the group of elves he was traveling with. Islanzadí grumbled, but agreed and stayed behind as Eragon walked forward into the center of the square, sword still held at his side lazily.

All of the murmuring and side conversations in the crowd stopped, and an eerie silence reigned supreme. It was broken by a muffled roar from Saphira, who could not roar properly due to her jaws being chained closed.

Eragon shot her a sympathetic look, but did not break her bonds. She would be drugged and weakened. He had decided beforehand to not release her unless it was absolutely necessary, more for her own safety than anything else.

"You are late." Galbatorix stated in a neutral tone. Eragon just stared at him. "I could kill your elven friends for your rudeness," he said thoughtfully, as if it was all just a game to him.

"You could try," Eragon corrected, causing the crowd to gasp at his boldness.

Galbatorix lowered his eyebrows in anger. "For your arrogance, I think I will. Executioner! Kill the one in the middle."

Eragon glanced back at the elves, noting the bulky man with a giant sword approaching them. He felt his heart grow heavy as he realized that Arya was the elf in the center. He was about to cast a spell that would kill the executioner, but then thought better of it. It would not do well to reveal his magical prowess so easily.

Instead, his gaze settled upon Saphira and a thought occurred to him. _If I am now part dragon, and the dragons breathe fire by magically desiring it to happen, why could I not do something similar?_

His eyes locked with Arya's as the executioner raised his sword to cleave her head off. In them he saw a hint of fear, but mostly regret. In response, Eragon raised Brisingr and pointed it directly at the executioner's chest, willing the fire within him to take over.

It did.

His sword burst into flames. This time, however, the fire did not stop at the end of the blade. Eragon had it continue in a straight path towards the executioner. The fire traversed the distance between Eragon and the executioner, roughly fifty feet, in about a second. Upon impact, it exploded against his chest, and after only a few seconds of burning, the stream of fire blasted through him and came out the other side.

Eragon lowered his blade, stopping the flames. A moment later the man fell to the ground, dead, a foot wide burning hole in the center of his chest.

The crowd was absolutely silent. Galbatorix had stood up, but had not otherwise moved. He only watched what had happened in shock.

After another minute of awkward silence due to Eragon's defiance of the king, Galbatorix finally said smoothly. "I will admit. That is a fantastic trick. I'll look forward to you teaching me it after you surrender."

Eragon felt Kuthian prod at his thoughts. _You should not delay for too much longer. There are still hours before it is dark, but there is no telling how long your fight with him will take, and if it gets dark, the advantage becomes his._

"I did not come here to surrender to you."

Galbatorix's eyes widened, as if he was truly surprised by the news. "Surely you do not intend to fight me! You were not even a match for Murtagh. Defeating you would be no challenge at all. I am giving you the opportunity to surrender willingly. You may even name your terms. Money, power, women, a title, they call all be yours in exchange for you and your dragon's willing servitude. I must admit, I am growing bored with having name-slaves as my allies."

"The only terms that would satisfy me would include you being killed."

Galbatorix's face contorted with anger. His voice rose and he began speaking faster, less smoothly. "Have the elves polluted your mind so much that you cannot recognize when you are being shown mercy? Is your self-righteousness attitude so important to you that you would sacrifice your future? I expected more from the man I have heard so much about."

Brisingr became vibrant with flames dancing upon its length as Eragon's temper briefly flared. He glanced down at the blade and smiled slightly, noting how responsive it was to his feelings. In response to Galbatorix's questions, he simply said, "Yes."

"Fool," spat the king. "Murtagh, destroy him."

Murtagh came to life at his master's orders, drawing Zar'roc and immediately leaping at Eragon. If he hadn't already had Brisingr drawn, Eragon might have been caught off guard by the quickness the Murtagh closed to distance between them, but as it was Eragon was easily able to bat both Murtagh and Zar'roc aside.

As Murtagh regained his footing, Eragon lowered Brisingr slightly and said, "Please, Murtagh, stand aside. Let me face Galbatorix."

"Defeat Galbatorix?" Murtagh asked incredulously. "You can't even defeat me!"

Murtagh closed the distance between them once again, slashing crossways at Eragon's chest. Eragon easily kept pace with him and blocked each of his subsequent attacks. His speed was greater than that of Murtagh, even without the help of the necklaces, but he was not sure that he could win the fight without using the power of the necklaces. He would have preferred to wait and use them when he fought Galbatorix, but he could take no chance with Murtagh defeating him.

Eragon put all he had into a series of counter strikes, knocking Murtagh back a bit and separating them for a moment. As he stared into Murtagh's eyes he realized that Murtagh might be fighting against himself with all of his strength, but he was not fighting with his spirit. It appeared that he was only fighting because he had to, not because he wanted to. Suddenly decided, Eragon reengaged him without using his necklace's power. If Murtagh was not going to try his hardest, it meant that he did not want to fight Eragon and that even though he might not be able to say it, he did want to be saved. If Eragon used his necklace's power, he would risk killing Murtagh by accident.

As it was, the duel was fairly even between the two. They fought for half an hour before either of them scored a hit on the other. During that time, Eragon noted that Galbatorix was watching with an unimpressed expression, as if bored. He was extremely wary of the King jumping into the battle at any time.

Finally, after what seemed like forever in their fight, Eragon scored a minor blow upon Murtagh's upper left thigh. He followed the hit up with another slash at Murtagh's side, crippling him and rendering him unable to fight.

Eragon marveled at how much more fluidly and quickly he was able to move since Kuthian had taught him how to access his dragon-like traits. A week before, Murtagh would have been Eragon's equal at a sword duel, but now Eragon was superior in every way.

When Murtagh was injured by Eragon, Galbatorix finally got up out of his throne and slowly approached Eragon, sword in hand. Eragon frowned as he read the glyph on the black blade; power.

_Now would be a very good time to start using that necklace, _Kuthian said pointedly, as if angered by how Eragon had waited so long. _Just connect your thoughts with the necklace's gemstone._

Eragon took one glance back at Saphira, and then closed his eyes, melding his thoughts with the power embedded in the necklace.

The rush of power he experienced was overwhelming at first. The sheer power of the dragon's magic pulsed through his body, tickling every nerve that he had. A few moments later, the tingly sensation faded away and he was only left with the power, along with a necklace that was now glowing softly below his tunic.

Eragon turned away from Murtagh as the Rider was trying to heal his wounds. He immediately struck at Galbatorix, putting his full force and speed behind his first stroke.

He was alarmed as Galbatorix's sword met his halfway through his stroke. Galbatorix's sword moved a speed almost equal to Eragon's own, even with the necklace powering it. He had no time to dwell on it, however, as Galbatorix immediately attacked with his own stroke, and Eragon was forced to defend it.

They exchanged blows for a few minutes at a speed that none of the human spectators could possibly follow, and then Eragon felt a narrow band of air behind him increase its pressure against his back. Understanding what it meant, Eragon knocked Galbatorix's blade to the side, not caring where his own sword ended up, and then leaped up into the air, doing a back flip and landing behind Murtagh, who had recovered and was trying to strike at Eragon from behind.

"Surrender," Galbatorix insisted as both he and Murtagh circled Eragon. "You might be a good swordsman, but you can't fight both of us with your one blade."

The corner's of Eragon's mouth twitched in a grin. "Good thing I have another sword." He commanded his concealing spell to end, revealing Vrael's sparkling white blade. Ignoring the surprised expressions on both Galbatorix and Murtagh's faces, and also all of the other spectators, he drew the blade with his left hand and held it at the ready.

Galbatorix seemed to recognize the blade, but did not have the time to speak of it as Eragon turned his back to Murtagh and struck at Galbatorix with both of his blades. The King barely managed to block both of the blades as Eragon struck three times at him before Murtagh could finally intervene and force Eragon to divide his attention.

When Murtagh returned to the battle, Eragon felt Galbatorix's vast, twisted mind crash into his own, trying to worm its way through his defenses. Murtagh soon joined as well, and Eragon found himself trying to fight against both Murtagh and Galbatorix with both sword and mind. He had no opportunity to counterattack with his mind, as if he decided to go after one of the two, the other would slip through his defenses. He could only clear his mind of any thoughts except for a bit of poetry that Oromis had taught him, leaving his arms to be controlled by his instincts.

Fortunately, the effort also reduced Galbatorix and Murtagh's focus on the battle. The dragon part of Eragon, enhancing his instincts and natural ability far beyond that of Galbatorix and Murtagh, began to show through.

In a seemingly unmatched, unthinkable scenario, Eragon began to gain an advantage in the sword battle. No longer was it Murtagh or Galbatorix dictating where he stepped and where he blocked, but now it was he that controlled their movements.

In lightning quick succession, Eragon landed nine blows on his opponents. He connected with slashes across both of their chests, three cuts on the legs of Galbatorix, and several scratches upon Murtagh's arms and sides.

Eragon felt the mental pressure greatly decrease as the wounds took their tolls on Galbatorix and Murtagh. He kicked Murtagh back and faced Galbatorix, intending to finish off the king and rid the world of his evil once and for all.

Unfortunately, life would not be so easy for Eragon. It was then that the roars of two dragons from above, along with streams of blazing fire, drew Eragon's attention away from his prize and forced him to focus on surviving against the dragons.

Both Shruikan and Thorn and released long jets of fire downwards at Eragon, and were now both diving down behind their flaming projectiles, intending to skim the ground and slash at Eragon with their talons.

_Now! _Kuthian roared in his thoughts.

Eragon did not hesitate. He held Vrael's sword straight above his head and melded his mind with Kuthian's, accessing the hidden powers within the dragon's consciousness.

The crowd was already speechless from the display that they had seen, but they became awestruck as the white blade began to glow brightly. The glow expanded rapidly to encompass Eragon completely. As it did so, the flaming projectiles collided with the glowing orb and splashed to the side harmlessly.

Thorn and Shruikan uttered startled exclamations and banked off to the side, avoiding the mysterious glowing orb.

As they did so, the glow began to fade away, revealing an enormous white dragon standing where Eragon had been moments before.

The entire crowd gasped, and even Galbatorix and Murtagh stood next to each other with dumbstruck expressions on their faces.

Eragon raised his wings and drove them down, taking off and hovering in the sky before Shruikan and Thorn. It became evident how much bigger than them he actually was. Shruikan was a bit smaller than Glaedr, and Kuthian easily surpassed Glaedr by several feet.

Eragon craned back his neck and roared mightily, reveling in the feeling of being a dragon. With two flaps of his wings he closed the distance between himself and Thorn, grappling with him as they fell towards the ground. Before they were forced to disengage Eragon had managed to claw Thorn deeply in the belly and bite him in the shoulder, flinging him towards the ground as he ascended to meet Shruikan.

Shruikan did not allow Eragon to fly above him as Thorn had, and instead charged downwards at him before he could reach the same altitude. With the height advantage, Shruikan managed to claw Eragon in the side, but his claws did not go deep due to the armor scales of a dragon's side. Eragon tried to lunge at Shruikan's neck, intending to grasp it with his teeth and end the fight, but Shruikan rolled to the side slightly to dodge it. The move, however, allowed Eragon to roll them over and escape the grapple, spinning in a circle and bashing Shruikan in the side of his head with the full strength of his tail.

Eragon flapped a few times to steady himself, noting how both Thorn and Shruikan were forced to try to land. Kuthian's fighting skills, which now belonged to Eragon via their bond, were beyond superb. With another roar, Eragon opened his maw and unleashed a ravening torrent of fire at the ground below, bathing the area that Murtagh, Galbatorix, Thorn, and Shruikan were standing in with fire.

After a full minute he closed his maw and allowed the flames and smoke to dissipate so that he could assess the situation. Thorn and Shruikan had used the fire as cover to retrieve their riders and make a break for the northern horizon.

Eragon turned as if he was going to chase them, but he felt the power in his body fading, meaning the necklace of power was ceasing its aid. Instead of chasing Galbatorix, Eragon landed softly in the courtyard, which had gone absolutely silent at Galbatorix's departure.

Eragon, still in dragon form, began to glow as before. The glow was much larger, as it encompassed his entire body, but when it disappeared he was once again an elf. With a relieved sigh, he glanced around at his surroundings, a neutral expression on his face.

As the people once again beheld Eragon, whole and unharmed, an enormous cheer echoed through the city. It was only the Varden men and women that cheered, however. Eragon noticed the many Empire soldiers fleeing to the safety of their tents, and he assumed they would fully retreat after what they had just seen.

Nasuada, Orrin, Roran, Islanzadí, and Jörmundur all ran over towards him. With a faint expression of amusement, he turned away from them and held his hand out towards Saphira and the trapped elves. Saphira was struggling against her chains to break out and charge Eragon, and he thought he saw pure joy in Arya's eyes, although he couldn't be sure from so far away.

"Jierda!" he muttered, shattering the stocks and chains binding the elves and Saphira.

Arya and the others immediately joined in the charge towards Eragon, but they were all beaten by Saphira, who leaped towards her rider in a single massive jump, pinning him to the ground beneath one of her paws and licking him on the face affectionately.

Eragon felt her mind touch his, and at once he became whole again. For the past week it had been as if he had only been half of himself. When he met Kuthian it helped his mood a little, but there was no possible replacement for the true partner of his heart, Saphira.

Grimacing as he felt her saliva on his face, he said happily, _I missed you too._

_Eragon! You reckless fool! What were you thinking fighting them alone, and why didn't you let me help you?_

_It worked, didn't it?_

Shaking her massive dragon head and allowing him to stand, albeit reluctantly, she said, _I will expect a full explanation for this._

_In a minute, we'll fly together, okay?_

_Aren't you in need of rest or healing?  
><em>

_No. _Eragon slowly stood up and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, drying it to the best of his ability.

He glanced around, his ears turning slightly pink as he noticed the different leaders standing in a circle around him with amused expressions on their faces. For a moment he locked gazes with Arya, but he knew that it was neither the time nor place to talk.

Addressing all of them, he said, "Meet me in my tent in half an hour and I will tell you my story. I need to speak with Saphira until then." There were several protests, but Eragon ignored them and jumped onto Saphira's back, noticing that Galbatorix and Murtagh had not taken the saddle off of her during the entire week. _This thing must be getting uncomfortable, _he mentioned. _I'll take it off at my tent._

_Thank you. _She hesitated. _Eragon, I'm very proud of what you did, whatever it was._

_About that…_


	12. Chapter 12: New Hope

Chapter 12: New Hope

Eragon yawned widely as Saphira leisurely banked to the right. Saphira had decided to fly above the retreating soldiers of the Empire while Eragon shared his memories from the last week with her. Their presence ensured that the troops retreated as quickly as possible, and that they weren't able to turn around and launch a surprise attack at the mostly scattered and unprepared Varden.

He and Saphira had just finished discussing the secrets Kuthian told Eragon. The final part of their discussion was a conversation about who exactly Eragon could tell the secrets to. They knew that all of the leaders would demand an explanation, but unfortunately Eragon wasn't necessarily able to tell them the full truth, especially Orrin. He didn't fully trust the king of Surda, mostly because he had spent so little time around him and was not very familiar with the way he acted.

As Eragon leaned to the side again, moving with Saphira as she banked left and headed back for Belatona, he marveled at the now setting sun. It was nearing winter, meaning the days grew shorter and the sun set earlier, but he hadn't realized that his fight with Galbatorix and Murtagh had lasted all that long. To him it was just a blurry memory.

During the half hour or so that he flew with Saphira, Eragon began to feel extremely tired. Kuthian told him that it was normal to feel tired after using the necklace, so he didn't worry much about it. At that point, all he wanted to do was land with Saphira, curl up next to her, and fall asleep. Unfortunately, however, he was not so lucky as to be free from the ordeal of political meetings. He actually felt more apprehensive about the upcoming meeting than he had felt while walking down the streets of Belatona to face off against Galbatorix and Murtagh.

Saphira landed softly besides a group of over sixty elves that were gathered around Eragon's tent. He also spotted a dozen or so Nighthawks scattered around. With a sigh, he dismounted Saphira and unbuckled the clasps of the saddle, allowing it to fall to the ground.

Blödhgarm approached him a moment later, greeting Eragon with a surprising amount of happiness and gratitude evident in his facial features. Eragon returned the greeting with a small smile, and then said, "Blödhgarm, could you take care of this saddle? Saphira has had to wear it all week."

"Of course, Eragon-elda. Queen Islanzadí, Lady Nasuada, Arya, King Orrin, and Roran Stronghammer await you inside your tent," Blödhgarm replied, finishing with a bow. He hurried over to the saddle and heaved it up, carrying it over to the tent and cleaning the dirt from it.

Eragon turned to Saphira with a look of dread on his face. She nuzzled his arm affectionately. _Go on, they're waiting. You'll do fine. You do want to talk to Arya, don't you? _Eragon grunted, but began walking over to his tent.

He pushed the flap to the side and entered, immediately noticing that there were several conversations already going on inside. Nasuada, Orrin, and Roran were speaking about something, and Arya and her mother were talking as well. To Eragon, the tent seemed much cleaner than he had left it.

He coughed to get their attention, and Roran immediately reached over and grasped Eragon in a bear hug, clearly relieved to have him back. "I was worried about you," he muttered.

Eragon patted him on the back with a grin on his face. "Likewise." A second later he added, "Could you let go? You're making it hard for me to breathe."

Roran released Eragon with a smile, backing away. Nasuada immediately took his spot and lightly embraced Eragon, saying a few praising words about his performance earlier.

When she moved out of the way it was Arya in her spot. Eragon stared into her emerald eyes, noting that they were shining slightly brighter than usual. In a slightly awkward motion, she embraced him tightly. They did not speak, but Eragon merely patted her back a few times comfortingly, knowing that they would have a chance to talk alone soon enough.

After a slightly longer period than the previous embraces, Eragon broke the contact and glanced around at the room again. He mentioned that it looked cleaner than usual.

It was Nasuada who replied. "Murtagh and Galbatorix must have searched your tent because we found it in absolutely terrible shape when we arrived. We thought we would straighten it up for you."

Eragon couldn't help it, he laughed. "Who would have thought that Kings and Queens would be cleaning my tent?" He shook his head, gesturing around the room with one hand. "Make yourselves comfortable, then, and we can begin."

Orrin, Nasuada, Roran, and Islanzadí all took seats at the single table in Eragon's tent, but there were only four chairs. Arya shrugged awkwardly and sat on the bed, sitting upright against the pillows.

Eragon choose to remain standing, pacing back and forth nervously. "Understand that I cannot tell you everything that I have learned-"

"I think the time for keeping secrets has long passed," Orrin remarked.

"I do agree," Eragon said, holding up his hands helplessly. "But, I cannot just give away secrets that the dragons and riders kept for thousands of years. I'll tell you what I can, and what the dragons have agreed to."

"The dragons?" Roran asked, emphasizing the plural.

Eragon didn't directly respond, but instead said, "Before I begin I require that Orrin, Nasuada, and Roran swear oaths of secrecy in the Ancient Language."

"Why is it only the humans that have to swear?" Orrin asked, clearly bothered.

Islanzadí rubbed her temples with one of her hands as she said, "Because Arya and I already know what he is going to tell you."

"And you're just telling us now?"

"Yes," Eragon said sharply, not in the mood to debate with Orrin about the terms that the dragons set.

Orrin looked like he was going to argue further, but Nasuada glared at him. Silenced, he sighed and asked Eragon what he needed to say.

When the oaths were all given, Eragon said, "Thank you. I will first tell you the source of Galbatorix's strength and why I was able to beat him. The methods I used, however, I cannot disclose."

Again, Orrin made to protest, but Islanzadí cut him off by saying, "I do not agree with your decision to reveal this information, but I will support it given the circumstances." Eragon gave her a nod of gratitude. Her support was very important.

Returning his attention to the others, Eragon said, "Galbatorix's source of strength is the dragons."

"What?" Roran exclaimed. "How can that be? They are all dead except for Saphira, Shruikan, and Thorn."

"That is not quite true," Arya commented, a small frown on her face.

"When a dragon experiences body death he or she can choose to disgorge a gemstone like orb from their body. This is called their Eldunarí, or heart of hearts. If they do so before dying, a dragon can live on indefinitely inside the orb."

"And you're saying that Galbatorix is using these dead dragons as his source of energy?" asked Orrin.

"That's correct. An Eldunarí is similar to an ordinary gemstone in the way that it stores and holds energy, but unlike a gem it can also regenerate that power over time. It is why Galbatorix's reserves have not run out over the last century."

"How many does Galbatorix have?" asked Roran.

"Several hundred," Islanzadí replied. "He managed to recover most of the Eldunarí from the dragons in the fall by means of torture. It is his greatest crime: the imprisonment of the dragon race."

"If he has hundreds of dragons aiding him, how did you overpower him today?" Nasuada asked. She had already known about the Eldunarí, but Eragon had yet to explain his secret to victory.

"The size of a dragon's Eldunarí depends on the age at which they disgorged it. An older dragon's Eldunarí can be quite massive, over a foot in diameter, while a small dragon's Eldunarí could be as small as this gemstone here," Eragon said, pointing to Kuthian's Eldunarí. He didn't actually say what it was, merely that it was the size of an Eldunarí.

Eragon thought he saw a small smile cross Arya's face as she seemed to realize what he was implying, but the others did not catch on. "In any event," Eragon continued. "Galbatorix has stayed in Urû'baen for so long for one major reason: he cannot carry all of his Eldunarí with him. When he travels he is considerably weaker, only being able to carry a fraction of his reserves with him. He cannot easily access them from a distance either, as magic is affected by distance just like a spear or an arrow. It takes more energy to draw from them the further away he is, making it almost pointless to try to siphon energy from them all the way out here in Belatona."

"That's extremely useful information," Orrin said. "But, it still doesn't answer the question of how you overpowered him and Murtagh. Murtagh easily defeated you a week ago, and both he and Galbatorix, even with less than his full strength, are much more powerful than you, are they not?" 

"You're correct," Eragon acknowledged. "Unfortunately, I cannot disclose any more information to you at this time. Hopefully in the future we can have all of these secrets out in the open, but for now I am forced to ask you to leave. The other things that I will discuss can only be shared with the elves."

Orrin made to protest, but Nasuada silenced him with another glare. She said, "I wish you would tell us the rest, but we will respect your decision for now. In the future, though, I expect you to follow through on your hopes to be able to share these secrets, and I trust that you are not keeping anything from me that would affect my planning of the next battles"

"I do not believe I am," Eragon said. "If it somehow becomes an issue, I'll tell you, but for now that's all I can say."

Orrin stalked out of the tent, looking angry. Nasuada followed him a minute later after bidding Eragon good night, and Roran stopped before Eragon to look him in the eyes. "Brother, we will talk tomorrow, alright?"

"Aye," replied Eragon, clasping Roran's shoulder. Roran nodded and left, leaving only Arya, Islanzadí, and Eragon remaining in the tent.

"I'm confused," Islanzadí said. "You just shared the greatest secret of the riders, but claim you cannot divulge more information than that. What exactly do you know that I do not?"

"I think I figured out at least part of it," Arya said, a slightly amused expression on her face.

"Go on," Eragon said, interested.

"Earlier, when you mentioned that the diamond on that sword was the size of a small Eldunarí, you were being more literal than you appeared, were you not? I'm guessing that it is an actual Eldunarí."

"Is this true?" Islanzadí asked, astonished.

With a small smile, silently praising Arya's intuition, he drew the sword and held it up so the Eldunarí in the pommel was visible to both Arya and Islanzadí. "She is correct. This is a dragon's Eldunarí. Although, it isn't the main reason I asked them to leave. If they knew of this it wouldn't really be a big deal."

"A big deal?" Islanzadí repeated, phrasing it as a sarcastic question. "This is some of the greatest news I have ever heard. You have recovered the Eldunarí of a dragon! How did you acquire it?"

"I'll tell you, and I'll also tell you the other two secrets I have learned, but first you and Arya must swear oaths of silence in the Ancient Language." He said the last part slowly and deliberately, wary of Islanzadí's possible reaction to it.

Arya almost immediately gave an oath, trusting Eragon's word, but Islanzadí protested. She said, "I'm the queen of the elves. What possible grounds do you have for requiring my oath of silence?"

"These secrets were more tightly kept than even the Eldunarí. Saphira and this dragon only agreed to let me tell you on the condition that you swore yourselves to silence on the matter." Islanzadí grumbled a bit, but finally gave the oath.

"Good," Eragon said, setting the sword on the table before her. "The dragon's name is Kuthian." 

"Kuthian?" Islanzadí demanded. "Vrael's dragon?"

"Yes. I found this blade in Utgard, alongside his and Vrael's corpse." 

"You were in Utgard?" Arya asked.

"It's where Glaedr transported me with the last of his energy. He sent me to Kuthian." Before Islanzadí or Arya could interrupt, Eragon added, "Kuthian told me what really happened in the Fall, and why he and Vrael were unable to stop Galbatorix." He held up a hand, forestalling their questions. "I'll tell you what he said, but I would like to share my other secret first."

"Will this finally explain how you transformed into a dragon?" Arya asked.

"Yes," he replied. "Kuthian revealed to me that the abilities of dragons, which until then I had assumed were generally unknown, are not quite as mysterious as we thought." He took a deep breath. "The true extent of their powers is still unknown, even to them, but for some time now they have been concealing several of their strengths. A dragon's fire breath is not their only special power. I cannot say what their extra powers are exactly, for they vary from dragon to dragon, but I can say that their power is determined by the color of their scales."

"That actually matters?" Islanzadí asked incredulously. "For millennia we thought the color of their scales was merely for appearance."

"Indeed. Kuthian has only given me knowledge of four abilities so far, the ones for the dragons currently living in Alagaësia. A blue dragon such as Saphira can reach speeds no other dragon can match, and on a clear day with a blue sky she is supposedly able to disappear from vision when flying at her maximum speed."

"Incredible!" Arya remarked. "Has she ever done this yet?"

Eragon shook his head. "We didn't have time to try it during our flight, and she did not know of it beforehand." 

"What about the other abilities?" Islanzadí asked.

"Fortunately for us, the only thing Kuthian knew about a red dragon's enhanced abilities was that they are generally more successful hunters. Black dragons, however, pose a serious problem. On a dark night they are capable of completely blending into the night and become nearly invisible. This is an ability that they don't necessarily need to practice for it to work, so if we fought Shruikan at nighttime we would likely be at a huge disadvantage."

"Does Galbatorix know?" Arya questioned.

Eragon shook his head. "I don't think so. He looked pretty shocked by my transformation today, so I'm guessing the answer is no." Before they could asked questions again he added, "And that brings us to the final ability I know of. In case you were unaware, white dragons are exceptionally rare. Only a small percent of dragons were ever born as white, and an even smaller percent of them possessed their color's power, but it is truly a remarkable gift." He paused for effect. "A white dragon that has experienced body death and lives on in its Eldunarí is capable of merging with another living being and temporarily returning in their full glory. This transformation requires a large amount of energy, which makes it difficult to maintain for any period of time."

"Why have we never heard of anyone doing this before? Surely the white dragons would have used this power before," said Islanzadí, a skeptical look on her face.

"They tried," Eragon confirmed. "However, Kuthian said that all attempts at merging with humans and elves ended with the death of the host. Elves and humans are incapable of sustaining a dragon's entire being." 

"Then how, pray tell, are you able to do it?" Islanzadí demanded.

Eragon glanced over at Arya, sighing to himself softly. "This was a little disturbing when I first heard it, for I always thought that I retained part of my human side when the dragon transformed me at the Agaetí Blödhren. We always thought that I was turned into an elf-human hybrid, but that's incorrect. I'm actually a mixture of dragons and elves, which allows Kuthian to merge with me." Eragon didn't even pay attention to Islanzadí's shocked expression. Instead, he only looked at Arya. He wondered what her reaction would be.

Arya glanced down as he spoke, but after a moment she looked up with an expression of acceptance and admiration. She said softly, "I think it suits you quite well, being part dragon."

He smiled at her, lighting touching her hand that was barely within his reach from where he was standing. Islanzadí cast an odd glance at them, but he ignored it and continued on. "Kuthian explained that the true significance of my dragon characteristics was not only being able to merge with him. My muscles are more similar to a dragon's than an elf, which is why I am stronger than most elves, but also less flexible."

"Interesting," Islanzadí mused.

"Very," Eragon agreed. "Also, I no longer use the Ancient Language to use magic, or if I do it is only to maintain the illusion that it is necessary."

"That is unsafe!" Arya scolded. Her voice was filled with worry and concern for his safety. "You cannot control magic as effectively when you do not speak your intent."

Eragon shook his head. "You forget. The dragons altered me in the ways that would benefit me the most. They gave me the appearance and agility of an elf, but the strength of a dragon. Out of the two species, which has the greater magical potential?"

Arya leaned back, realizing the implication. "You mean to say that you no longer have control over your magic? That it is only subject to your emotional state like a dragon?"

"No, no. I have complete control over my magic. The dragon part in me allows me to use the magic without the restrictions of the Ancient Language, but the elvish part of me allows me to control that magic and to use it at will."

Arya rubbed her temples. "That is a very complicated mix."

With a chuckle, Eragon said, "I know. It took Kuthian most of the flight here to explain it to me and to teach me how to use it." He waved his hand in a dismissive way. "I should finish my story before the night grows too old. The intricacies of magic can be discussed in the future, if you are interested enough. I don't full understand it yet either."

"Very well," Islanzadí said, giving him the go-ahead.

He reached up and removed the blue diamond necklace, placing it gently on the table next to the sword. He noticed Arya get up curiously and walk over to his side, gazing at the necklace, and also at Kuthian's Eldunarí, with interest.

"This necklace was a gift from the dragon-whose-name-cannot-be-spoken-in-any-language to the first Eragon. It was designed as a means of ensuring that the Lead Rider would be equipped to deal with any threats that might arise. In times of need, the necklace grants the Lead Rider access to the full abilities of dragon magic. It isn't clear just how powerful it is, but Kuthian told me that it would be strong enough for me to defeat Galbatorix and rescue the Varden." Eragon paused, and then reluctantly added, "Unfortunately, Galbatorix is likely still stronger than me with all of his hearts, so I will not be able to rely on only this necklace to defeat him at Urû'baen."

"If this necklace is so powerful, then why did Vrael not slay Galbatorix with ease?" Islanzadí asked, clearly stunned by the information. "And also, what good is it to you if you already have access to the magical abilities of dragons?"

"I can access magic like a dragon can, but I am not necessarily more powerful than one because of that. Besides, this necklace was a gift from the dragons themselves. It is far stronger than any individual dragon."

"And about Vrael?"

"The necklace comes with a terrible price. It can cost the Lead Rider his sanity if used too often. Dragon's magic is so greatly influenced by the world around them and their own emotions that the experience can be overwhelming to any elf or human. Kuthian explained that I might have some added safety against it, but even my dragon side is not enough to protect me from it's corruption." Eragon withdrew the second necklace from his pocket, setting it beside the first. The diamond in the center sparkled just as bright as the first, but it was a colorless sparkle, unlike the blue one that belonged to Eragon.

"Behold," he said. "Vrael's bane." Arya and Islanzadí looked at him with confused expressions, so he clarified. "This second necklace was created to act as a safeguard against the Lead Rider going too far with the first necklace. It is able to end the spell of power that is induced by the first necklace. Both of them have enchantments that allow them to only be worn by their true owners. The first necklace belongs to the Lead Rider, and the second to…well essentially to his mate. Kuthian said that the second necklace could only be worn by someone who shared a strong bond of love with the Lead Rider. Vrael's mate died from an incurable illness several years before the fall, and thus Vrael was unable to use these to stop the Fall." When neither Islanzadí nor Arya seemed to grasp the full meaning of his words, he added, "It also means that each time I use this necklace without a mate, I risk becoming more of a menace than Galbatorix _ever _could be."

He noticed Arya avert her gaze, her lips curved in a very faint smile. "It is quite a personal question, but obviously necessary given the circumstances. Do you have anyone that you are close enough to that you could become mates with?" Islanzadí inquired.

Eragon shook his head. "No, not to my knowledge."

Arya jumped into the conversation at that point and said, "I think that Eragon has given us enough to ponder for the time being. Don't you agree, mother?"

Islanzadí reluctantly nodded. "I do. You have bestowed a great deal of information upon us, and I now understand your request for our oaths. I apologize for being so stubborn about them." 

"It is of no consequence," Eragon replied, a small smile on his face.

"I would speak with Kuthian, if it is possible."

He shook his head. "You could try if you wanted, but I think he is quite tired from flying here with me and then fighting against Shruikan and Thorn. Give him a day or two and he'll be more responsive."

Islanzadí stared at him for a moment, and then slowly nodded. She turned to Arya. "Daughter, would you do me the favor of helping me find a place to stay tonight?"

Arya shook her head. "Unnecessary. You may stay in my tent tonight until proper accommodations can be made."

"Where will you stay?"

"It's a large bed, mother. Besides, I'm not sure if I'll be joining you anytime soon. I would like to speak with Eragon alone for awhile."

Eragon held Islanzadí's gaze as she transferred it to him, studying him closely. She turned back to Arya and nodded. "Very well, Arya. Thank you." She touched her fingers to her lips. "Good night, Eragon-elda." With that brief farewell she was gone, leaving Eragon and Arya standing alone in the tent.

With a loud sigh, Eragon unbuckled the belt of Beloth the Wise, placing it on the table gently. He turned towards Arya and was surprised as she pulled him into a tight embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. He instinctively returned the gesture. "I thought I'd never see you again," she murmured. "Or worse, I'd see you and you wouldn't be yourself."

"I'm not going anywhere," he said comfortingly. She sighed in contentment. "Were you hurt while you were captured?"

"No, not physically," she said.

"Mentally?" 

She shook her head against his shoulder. "Not by anything they did, but it did bring back memories that I thought I had left far in my past."

"About Gil'ead?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Eragon understood, of course, exactly what she was talking about. He rubbed her back with one of his hands soothingly. "You're safe now." His voice was detached, uninterested. It wasn't intentional, but Eragon knew that he had offended her when she pulled back to look him in the eyes.

"What's wrong? You seem distracted."

For the last few hours he had done his best to conceal his frustration, but he couldn't help but let it out. With a sigh he released Arya from their embrace and stalked over to the bed. "I was so close, Arya, so _fucking_ close to killing him and ending all of this, but I failed. Now…I'm afraid I won't have another chance, especially not with the conditions for using the necklace."

"You did not fail, Eragon. You rescued me and the entire Varden on your own. It was an incredible feat." When Eragon didn't reply, she touched his shoulder from behind and said gently, "Besides, you'll get another chance, of that I have no doubt."

"How could you possibly know that?" he demanded, more harshly than he intended. He felt the hand leave his shoulder and he instantly knew he had made a mistake, but could not force himself to turn around and face her.

He heard the sounds of someone moving around the swords on the table, and then Arya's voice from behind him saying, "Look at me, Eragon."

"That might not be wise," he said softly.

He felt a hand pulling on his arm, trying to make him turn around. "Eragon, look at me."

With a sigh, he turned around slowly to face Arya. At first he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. She was as beautiful as ever. Her traditional black leather covered her body completely. Her raven hair was untied and left free to run down the sides of her face and onto her shoulders. He followed it down to her neck where he noticed a green diamond necklace around her neck that he had not seen her wear before.

And then it hit him.

He staggered back, grasping the side of the bed in shock; the full implications of the necklace that she wore were forming in his mind. "A-Arya." he stammered.

She took a step forward and took his left hand in her right, feeling the callused surface with her fingers, a smile on her face. "I told myself that I would wait until after the war to tell you, but now all the reasons I had for staying silent have been torn away."

Standing straight again, he asked in a nervous voice, even though in his heart he already knew the answer, "Does this mean that you-"

His words were cut off and she pulled him closer to her and locked her lips with his passionately. It took him a moment to react, as he was completely shocked by her actions, but when he did he returned her kiss with just as much passion.

It was a perfect moment for Eragon. The kiss was short, only lasting for a span of several seconds, but for those few moments he felt like everything he and Saphira had been through, all the hardships and trials, they had all been worth it.

Arya released his lips after a moment, and he slowly pulled his head back. He opened his eyes, which he hadn't even realized he had closed, to find her smiling at him with the most beautiful smile that he had ever seen.

A moment later her cheeks began turning pink. She was obviously embarrassed. With an awkward laugh, she took a step back and glanced down. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She looked back up and him, still smiling. "Nothing, nothing. It's just…I've never really done this before. You know, been in love with someone."

"So you love me?" he asked. In his heart he knew that she did. It was the only explanation for her actions over the past few weeks, but he had to hear it straight from her.

"Yes, Eragon. I love you."

With a wide grin, Eragon stepped forward and captured Arya's lips with his own once again. This time he was able to kiss her properly, as he wasn't shocked into not being able to move. The kiss only lasted a short moment, but nothing could have made Eragon feel better. "I love you too, Arya." He was also painfully aware of how difficult it must have been for Arya to kiss him as such, after all she had been through with Durza.

She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his shoulder. "I know," she whispered in his ear, sending chills down his spine.

They stood like that for several long minutes, basking in each others presence, but Eragon eventually was forced to ask, "What about your mother?"

"Do not worry about her. Any objections she might have had carry no weight with news of these necklaces. And besides, I do not care what she thinks of us. I have already kept us apart for so long. I will not allow someone else to do so as well."

"That's not what I meant," Eragon said, amused. "She's expecting you back in your tent."

"She'll be waiting a very long time then," Arya said without hesitation. Eragon kissed the top of her head, still amazed at what exactly was happening. "Come," she added. "You need to rest."

That got a yawn out of him. "Aye, I really do." He released her and made his way over to his bed, removing his shirt after a moment's hesitation. He also removed his long pants that he had worn for the last several days, leaving him in just a pair of under-shorts, which he would remove under no circumstances.

He climbed into the bed, glancing at Arya to see what her intentions would be. She hesitated for a moment, and then turned her back to him. "Could you undo the back of this?" she asked, referring to her leather top.

"I've seen you sleep in your leather gear all the time," he observed. "Why not now?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, obviously amused. "Eragon, it is hardly comfortable to sleep in. I sleep in it when I have to, but I would greatly prefer not to. Are you going to untie this?" 

Eragon wasted no time arguing. He simply undid the clasp on the back of her tunic that prevented her from easily removing it. He had expected her to be wearing some sort of tunic underneath, but all that she wore were her undergarments, which sent a flush of red to his cheeks as he beheld her. He was even more surprised as she sat beside him in the bed, kicking off her leggings, fully exposing her legs for a few seconds before she slid under the blankets.

She murmured a spell to put out the several candles and lanterns that were lit around the room, leaving them shrouded in complete darkness.

Arya cuddled up next to him in the same position as the last few times they shared a bed, only this time Eragon was left with the strangest sensation of closeness as he felt her smooth skin touching his own.

After one final kiss goodnight, the two Shadeslayers fell asleep together once again, but this time there were no hidden feelings between them.


	13. Chapter 13: Winter Plans

Chapter 13: Winter Plans

Eragon woke to the sound of someone knocking on the pole of his tent. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced to his side and noticed Arya waking up as well. With a yawn, he noticed that the walls of the tent were a brighter shade of blue than when he usually woke up, meaning he had slept longer than he was supposed to.

"Yes?" he called out to the guest.

"It's Islanzadí, I was wondering if you knew where Arya was. She did not return to her tent last night." Eragon nearly choked on his tongue as he heard her voice, and it took him a moment to find words.

Before he replied to her, he turned to glance at Arya. It took most of his self control for him to not burst into laughter at her absolutely desperate expression. She was slashing her finger across her throat and making pleading faces. In a barely controlled voice, Eragon said, "We didn't talk for very long last night, but I think I know where she might be. I can try to contact her if you'd like."

There was a noticeable pause, and Eragon waited anxiously. If Islanzadí entered the tent, she would learn about him and Arya, and it definitely was not the way he wanted to tell her.

Luckily for them, Islanzadí believed Eragon. "That will do. Please tell her that Nasuada has called an, as she put it, "extremely important meeting" that she wants the three of us to attend. Her message said it was optional, but I'd recommend joining me in attending. It's supposed to start in a few minutes." Eragon and Arya both sighed in relief at not being caught, yet.

"If I find her I'll be sure to let her know. You can count on my attendance, at least as soon as I clean up."

"Very well, Eragon-elda," Eragon sank back into his pillow as he heard the very faint sound of footsteps moving away from his tent.

Eragon felt Saphira touch his thoughts, and Arya's as well. _Do you really think it is wise to lie to the queen about what's really going on? I'm all for a bit of excitement, but I fear that this could be at your own expense, both of you._

_Eragon didn't lie, _Arya replied, a smug smile gracing her features. _He just didn't tell the whole truth._

_Your mother will not care, _Saphira countered sharply.

_As much as I hate to admit it, Saphira's right. We shouldn't be lying to your mother, Arya._

With a defeated sigh Arya swung her legs out of the bed, searching for her leggings that she had kicked off the previous night. Eragon took the opportunity to admire her beauty while waiting for her response. _Very well, _she grumbled. _Let's at least figure out what our plans for the near future are before we tell her, okay? _Eragon nodded, getting up as well.

Saphira, still in their thoughts, added, _It is, of course, your decision. _She paused briefly, and then added in a much more cheerful tone, _I almost forgot to congratulate you two._

_For what? _Arya asked.

_For waking up, _she said dryly. _It was rather pitiful to see the both of you walking around completely clueless as to what the other was thinking. And, _she added in a softer tone. I _also wanted to say that I'm happy for you. It was actually kind of distressing to have to hear Eragon's every waking thought when they were mostly about his unrequited love._

Arya, fully dressed once again, turned to face Eragon. She took his hands in her own and said sadly, "I'm sorry for what I put you through. I hope that you can forgive me."

Eragon placed one of her hands over his heart. "There is nothing to forgive. I just hope we can make this work."

Arya leaned in and kissed him softly. "We'll find a way." Eragon raised an eyebrow as she pulled back, a thoughtful expression on her face. _Saphira? _she asked. _Does this mean that you approve of me being Eragon's mate? Your blessing is perhaps even more important than my mother's._

Eragon felt Saphira humming in their thoughts contentedly. _I cannot think of anyone more qualified or better suited for the role. Besides, Eragon's heart seems unwilling to love anyone but you, so I never really had much of a choice in the matter. It's not a bad thing. If I could have picked from any elf in Alagaësia, I doubt that I'd find an elf as honorable and trustworthy as you. _

_Thank you, Saphira, _Arya said, a strong hint of pride coloring her voice. _You honor me greatly._

_Indeed I do, _Saphira said in an extremely arrogant tone.

Eragon reached up to Arya's neck and touched the diamond in her necklace. After a moment of thought he pulled the collar of her tunic just enough to drop the necklace inside. Arya raised an eyebrow. "You might not want to reveal that yet. It would surely give us away to Islanzadí," he explained.

Arya brought the diamond back out and held it up, gazing at it in awe of its spectacular green color. "I wish I didn't have to hide it," she grumbled. "But I suppose it will only be for a day or two." She dropped the necklace beneath her tunic once again with a small sigh. "You, on the other hand, don't have to hide yours." She reached out to the table and picked up the necklace that Eragon had left there last night, holding it carefully, almost as if she was afraid that it would break if she dropped it.

She rubbed her thumb over the blue diamond for a short moment, and then leaned up and fastened it around Eragon's neck. As she did so their lips brushed, and Eragon took the opportunity to pull her into a long, passionate kiss.

Arya released his lips after a minute, smiling. With a soft giggle she said, "Come on, Eragon. We have to go. They're waiting for us."

Eragon grumbled, but released his hold on her and went over to his table. He examined his two swords, deciding how best to attach them both to his belt. Unfortunately, the best method he could find was simply sliding the sword next to Brisingr, which caused them to clink together when he moved quickly. "It'll have to do," he muttered, shrugging. He wasn't about to let Kuthian's Eldunarí out of his sight just to keep himself a bit quieter.

He turned back to Arya, who had managed to strap her own sword on in the time and was now waiting for him. "Alright," he said. "Bend the air around you so that people can't see you, making you invisible. Just follow me out of the tent and run a short ways out of sight. That way when I walk by you can appear as if you were somewhere else entirely."

"Alright," she agreed. He waited patiently as she selected her words, and then nodded in approval as she faded from his vision.

Eragon took a deep breath and pushed his tent flap open, making sure to leave it open long enough for Arya to make it out. He saw a faint flicker in the air to his side, and then nothing. Sighing in relief, he made his way over to Islanzadí, who was talking with several of his guards. The fifty or so elves that had accompanied Islanzadí were scattered around as well, making it impossible for any Varden member to even get within twenty feet of Eragon or Islanzadí.

The queen broke off her conversation and waved Eragon over. "Did you speak with Arya?"

He nodded. "She'll join us on the way there."

"Very well. Let us walk. I'm sure Nasuada is growing impatient."

"I doubt that she's the only one," Eragon added. He hesitated for a minute, and then asked, "Have you given any thought to what I told you last night?"

Islanzadí glanced at Eragon, who was walking to her right. "Not in particular. I was quite tired." He noticed her glance down to the two swords hanging on his left hip. She gestured at them and asked, "Do you mind if I...?"

Eragon nodded. "Go ahead, but keep it short because we're only a few minutes away from the castle."

Islanzadí reached out a hand and grasped the hilt of Vrael's sword, making contact with Kuthian for the first time. Eragon noticed several of the guards eye them oddly, wondering what was going on, but he shook his head ever so slightly and they nodded, understanding that they weren't to inquire.

Eragon was surprised at how quickly Islanzadí released the sword. "He's quite incredible," she said. "We didn't talk about anything important, but I took the opportunity to introduce myself and my daughter for future encounters."

"Ah," Eragon said.

Arya joined them a moment later, greeting her mother and Eragon as if they had not spoken all morning. She walked beside Eragon, leaving him in the middle.

The rest of the walk proceeded in silence, and then arrived at Nasuada's command room on the second floor of the castle a few moments later. They had walked past Saphira in the courtyard and she had been standing near a hole carved in the wall, clearly a place for her to insert her head and participate.

There was a group of eight Nighthawks guarding the elaborately decorated wooden doors of the chamber, but Eragon didn't even have to request entrance for them to move aside and open the doors for him and the other two elves. He made a hand gesture to Blödhgarm, signaling him to accompany them inside.

As they stepped through the doors Eragon grimaced at the scene before him. There was an enormous round table in the center, perhaps fifteen or twenty feet in diameter. The table was packed with chairs, half of which were vacant. Unfortunately, they weren't vacant due to absences, but rather due to the dozens of men standing up and arguing with each other across the table. Eragon glanced back and saw the doors close behind them, and he sighed softly. They hadn't noticed their presence yet.

Eragon touched Islanzadí, Arya, and Blödhgarm's minds. _What a mess. _

In an amused tone Blödhgarm asked, _Do we wait for them to notice us, or do we make our presence known?_

_Let's wait and see how long they keep this up for, _Arya suggested. _It's actually amusing to watch._

_True, _Islanzadí commented.

And so, the four elves stood in the doorway watching the humans argue about various topics ranging from Galbatorix's surprise defeat to how the Varden was supposed to survive during the winter season. Many of the seated people seemed to notice the elves' presence, but they were unable to inform all of the arguing ones.

Slowly, one by one, the rowdy people noticed the elves standing in the doorway. Eragon almost laughed each time one of them recognized him, for they always appeared terribly embarrassed and immediately sat down.

It took several long minutes, but eventually there was only one more person standing, the closest man who had his back to them and wasn't able to see. He appeared confused at why everyone was suddenly quiet, and then he turned around slowly, a mortified expression on his face as he saw Eragon. The man slowly and silently sank into his chair.

With everyone finally quiet and still, Eragon was able to count the number of people present and identify familiar faces. He recognized a handful of the commanders, Nasuada, King Orrin, Roran, and a few others, but the majority of them were unknown faces.

Eragon took the lead as they made their way all the way around the circular table towards the three empty chairs beside Nasuada. Nobody spoke as Islanzadí took the chair to Nasuada's right, Eragon took the one beside that, and Arya took the chair beside Eragon. Blödhgarm stood behind Eragon in a protective way, constantly sweeping his gaze across the room. Saphira snaked her head through the hole in the wall behind Nasuada's chair, which was slightly elevated above all the others.

Eragon was beginning to feel uncomfortable, as nobody had dared to speak since he had entered the room. He allowed the silence to stand for three more minutes before finally saying smoothly, "I was told that this was an important meeting, but it doesn't appear that we are doing anything."

"You'll have to forgive them," Nasuada said apologetically. "The last time we were gathered in here was two days ago with Galbatorix presiding."

"I see," Eragon replied. He gestured around, "You should all known by now that I am no Galbatorix."

"You're more powerful than him now, so what's the difference?" one man asked.

Eragon grimaced and glanced down. It was Arya that rebuked the claim. "The difference," she said smoothly, controlling her anger. "Is that Eragon is a good person who wants nothing more than for this war to be over."

Eragon didn't see who it was, but someone else said, "And how do you know that? How do we know he won't turn right around and replace Galbatorix as soon as he's dead?"

"Enough, Edric," Nasuada barked. "Eragon has been given multiple opportunities to replace me and my father as leader of the Varden, but he has declined them all. Speaking as someone that knows Eragon reasonably well, I can say for certain that he does not aspire to rule. If you are unwilling to accept the fact then there's the door," she said angrily, pointing at the door. "Anyone who wants to continue this pointless questioning of Eragon's character can kindly leave now. I did not call him and the Queen of the elves here to witness your immature arguments and ill-thought out questions."

Nobody got up and left, but Eragon got the feeling that the mood has eased somewhat in the room, despite Nasuada's fierce scolding.

"So," Islanzadí said after a pause. "Why did you call us here?"

"We must discuss the winter plans of the Varden and the elves."

"Hmm," Islanzadí mused. "What did you have in mind?"

Eragon noticed Nasuada glance at Orrin, and then said cautiously, "I think both of our armies would benefit from a reprieve during the winter. It also greatly depends on whether or not Eragon needs the time to formulate a plan to defeat Galbatorix."

"What do you mean?" Martland Redbeard asked. "Eragon defeated Galbatorix yesterday."

Nasuada looked at Eragon, unsure of what to say. With a sigh, Eragon said, "Galbatorix's strength is greatly effected by his distance from Urû'baen. His source of power is somewhere in the city and the further away he gets the less power he can draw from it."

"So, basically what you're saying is that Galbatorix is still stronger than you?" Redbeard asked.

"I can't be certain, but it is highly probable that he is," Eragon said.

"That is distressing news," Jörmundur said. "Most of us were under the impression that we had gained the upper hand in this battle."

"You should not be distressed," Arya said strongly. "We are now able to control the pace of this war, and we do not have to greatly fear Galbatorix until at least Dras-Leona, more likely Urû'baen."

"How do you figure?" someone asked.

"It's simple," Roran chimed in. "Up until a few days ago Galbatorix was able to best Eragon at any place and time of his choosing, but now he is required to wait in his castle if he wants to be guaranteed the best chance of prevailing. It is unlikely that he'll challenge Eragon again without his full strength."

"It still does not solve the problem of defeating Galbatorix. We will eventually have to confront him in Urû'baen, and when that happens we had better have a plan that will work," said Orrin.

Nasuada waved her hand dismissively. "This can all be discussed later. What matters is what we do now. Unless anyone has any objections, I recommend a break for the winter where we spend time refining our strategy and training our warriors."

"I have one issue." The complaint came from Martland Redbeard. "I agree with the idea of a break during winter, but I think it would be foolish to sit in one place and not do anything at all. We should at least be doing something to improve our situation."

"Agreed," Nasuada said. "Any suggestions?"

"I have one," Eragon commented. Nasuada motioned for him to continue, so he stood up, pacing back and forth in front of Saphira's nostrils. "Urû'baen is obviously going to be stocked for a siege, but what if we begin the siege of both Urû'baen and Dras-Leona during the winter, instead of when we are already there."

"How could we possibly do that?" Edric asked in an arrogant tone.

Eragon waved his hand over the glossy table surface and murmured, "Draumr kópa," imagining a map of Alagaësia. He could have cast the spell with his mind, but he wanted to maintain the illusion that he was still bound by the Ancient Language. Casting magic without words would have terrified the assembled humans.

There were several surprised exclamations from the commanders as a map almost as large as the table itself appeared before them. "Now," Eragon continued. He placed his finger on Woadark Lake. "If we could control this passageway we would eliminate the primary source of supplies for both Dras-Leona and Urû'baen. We likely would not need a very large force to do it, perhaps a hundred elves would do, and we could prevent any additional supplies from reaching the Empire for the entire winter. The elves could easily cut through Palancar Valley and make their way down the western coast or directly through the Spine. They would avoid detection until they arrived."

"An intriguing idea," Islanzadí commented. "The problem I find is that the elves would be rather unprotected and could easily be slain if Murtagh and a group of soldiers were dispatched to destroy them."

"True," Eragon commented, scratching his chin.

_I have a suggestion, _Saphira said, broadcasting her thoughts to all in the room. Eragon almost smiled at the awed expressions of several men that had never heard a dragon speak before.

Saphira extended a talon over Eragon's shoulder and tapped the western coast. _We don't actually have to block the path. Kuasta is not loyal to the Empire and I doubt we would have any trouble convincing their leaders to side with us. Narda is insignificant, which leaves Tierm. If we were to simply conquer __the city our forces would have a secure location to stay at during the winter and it would make it much more difficult for Galbatorix to retaliate._

"You make it seem like conquering Tierm is easy," someone said. "Have you ever seen that city's layout? It's designed to hold off any sort of siege for months."

Saphira snorted, a jet of fire escaping her nostrils. Eragon had to hold up his hand and block it from singing the table. _Jeod, what do you think? _she asked.

Jeod was sitting on the other side of the table listening intently. He seemed to be a bit embarrassed by Saphira's question, but he stood up and said, "I lived in Tierm for around two decades, and I know for sure that the citizens of the city do not support the Empire. It is only the military and government that we would have to deal with."

"Along with the entire conscripted population," Edric added.

"I believe," Islanzadí said slowly and deliberately. "Eragon could conquer Tierm on his own, or with a small force to support him."

"Eragon?" Nasuada asked, glancing to him.

Eragon glanced at Arya, and then to Saphira. "The task itself doable, but I cannot promise myself to the task right now. I have several small missions to undertake during the winter that are of great importance."

"What might those be?" Orrin inquired. "You did not speak of this last night."

"A trip to the elves' capital might prove beneficial, but more importantly I think that I need to visit several of the old outposts of the Riders. I cannot disclose my reasons, but these ancient ruins might contain the key to gaining the upper hand against Galbatorix."

"And you'll be doing this alone?" Martland Redbeard asked. "That seems rash."

Eragon shook his head. "I'll obviously be going with Saphira, and I'll probably take another elf along with me as well."

Nasuada clapped her hands. "Like I said earlier, the finer details can be discussed at later meetings. It has been less than twenty four hours since we were liberated from Galbatorix and I think that some sort of festivities should be held in Eragon's honor."

"You don't have to do that," Eragon said.

"It's not just for you," Nasuada said, amused. "This should provide an opportunity for people to move past the events of the last week. I think it is necessary."

"I concur," King Orrin announced.

Eragon was almost surprised as Nar Garzhvog, whom he hadn't even realized was present, stood up and said, "Will there be games of skill? There must be games of skill."

"That can easily be arranged," Nasuada said with a smile. "Perhaps you could suggest some of the games."

"Traditionally Urgal celebrations have two types of games, physical and mental. The physical game is usually wrestling, but perhaps swordplay would be more appropriate for this occasion. The mental game is usually a game of wits. It varies greatly from celebration to celebration."

"How about a riddle contest?" someone suggested.

"That sounds perfect," said Nasuada. "Swordplay and riddles for the games, dancing for those who want it, and hopefully we can arrange to have plenty of food for those interested."

"When will this be held?" Eragon inquired.

"Tonight, if we can manage."

"So soon," Eragon commented. "If you'll excuse me, I'll allow you to make preparations for this. I have several things to attend to."

"Wait," Nasuada insisted. "Can I count on your presence tonight?"

"Yes," Eragon confirmed, albeit after a slight hesitation.

"And what about you, Queen Islanzadí, Arya?"

"I was going to begin running back to the elves today," Islanzadí commented. "However, I think I can stay one night for this celebration."

Nasuada nodded, a smile on her face. Eragon could tell that despite all of Nasuada's seriousness and down-to-business attitude in meetings, she was really just as excitable as anyone else.

"I will attend as well," Arya confirmed.

"Good, good, thank you." Nasuada stood up and raised her voice. "If you want to stay and help organize this celebration please do, but otherwise you may leave and attend to your business." Roughly half the people stood up and left.

Eragon made his way out of the castle with Islanzadí and Arya, along with their guards. They stopped in the courtyard to speak. It was Islanzadí who said, "What happened last night? You didn't return to your tent."

Arya shrugged. "I did not feel like sleeping in my tent last night." When Islanzadí was about to ask another question Arya shook her head. "It is not important."

Eragon watched the queen stare at her for a moment, and then slowly nod. "What are you doing today, Eragon?" she asked.

_Flying with me, _Saphira snorted, walking up behind Eragon and blowing hot air at him.

Eragon turned around, grinning. "Well, what are we waiting for then?" He excused himself with the two women and jumped onto her back.

Before Saphira took off Arya said, "I'll see you later today, Eragon. Have a nice time."

Saphira didn't give Eragon time to respond, instead opting to leap into the air and flap her wings furiously. Eragon grinned as the Varden and Belatona shrunk to a black smudge below them. There, high in the sky, he and Saphira were alone and as free as a Rider and dragon could ever hope to be.

They floated in absolute tranquility for awhile, until Eragon finally mentioned, _The Varden seems to be having quite a few celebrations lately._

Saphira took longer than usual to respond. _There is much to celebrate._

Wondering if everything was alright, as he had noticed Saphira blocking him from part of her mind, he asked, _Saphira, is something wrong?_

Again, Saphira hesitated for a long moment before replying. _Nothing is wrong in the way that you mean, but recent events, namely you and Arya, have brought up thoughts of finding my own mate. _Eragon didn't know what to say, so he let her continue. In an almost frustrated voice Saphira grumbled, _I know we have already been through this several times, and I don't expect you to ignore your own happiness because of the state of the dragon race, but yet...I find that I envy your bond with Arya and I can't help but wonder if I'll ever meet someone like her._

Eragon massaged the scales on her shoulder as he replied. _I think you'll find your mate sooner than you might imagine._

_We'll see._

_Come on, Saphira. You said that there was much to celebrate. Cast aside your troubled thoughts and enjoy this rare moment of peace with me. _

Saphira snorted softly, barely audible over the wind. _If you truly mean what you say, I'd hold on to something, _she warned, slowly beginning to tip downwards.

Eragon grinned, gripping the spike in front of him, ready for his fun to begin.


	14. Chapter 14: Short and Forgotten

Chapter 14: Short and Forgotten

Eragon craned his neck back as Saphira leisurely glided over the city of Belatona. The yellow sun was beginning to near the horizon, and below them Eragon could see hundreds of tiny people running around trying to prepare for the celebration planned for that evening.

He and Saphira had spent nearly the entire day at peace in the sky. At times he had felt like he shouldn't ignore Arya so much, but he remembered that moments like this with Saphira were rare during the war. Spending time with Arya was not quite as difficult, especially now that she had openly admitted her love for him.

Still, despite all the things that seemed to be going his way, Eragon had a strange feeling. _Saphira?_ he asked.

_Hmm?_

_Don't you feel like we're...forgetting something?_

He felt a strange emotion in her mind that he wasn't able to immediately identify, and then she said, _Now that you mention it...I do. _

_Strange, _Eragon commented.

Saphira was about to return to the Varden to attend the celebration when the sound of distant marching drums reached their ears. At first Eragon tensed, thinking that the Empire might be planning a retaliation attack, but then he realized that the sound was coming from the south rather than the north.

As Saphira turned to face the sound Eragon's mouth dropped open. The entire army of dwarves was approaching the Varden at a relatively quick rate. He wondered why he and Saphira hadn't noticed them earlier in the day, but realized that they had been flying high enough for clouds to hinder their vision.

_I can't believe we forgot about the dwarves, _he said.

_Not only us, _Saphira added. _Nasuada and the others forgot as well._

_I guess with all that has happened in the past week it is understandable._

_What do you say to giving Orik a greeting? Maybe even a ride back to the Varden so he can attend the celebration tonight._

Eragon grinned at the thought of finally getting to spend some more time with Orik. It had really only been around a month since they had seen each other, but it felt like much longer. _Let's go. _

Saphira flapped her wings to quickly travel the distance between them and the dwarves. In a very uncharacteristic moment, she decided to land without making any attempt at impressing the dwarves below, instead preferring a slow and leisurely descent into a soft landing close to where King Orik was marching at the front of his people.

Eragon watched as Orik made a few hand gestures at the drum carriers nearest him. They immediately played several notes and the dwarves quickly halted. Eragon quickly dismounted Saphira and they walked forward together, noting the seemingly nervous dwarves near the front of the army.

Orik moved forward to greet them as well, waving away his guards as they tried to follow. Both Eragon and Orik bore expressions of happiness at reuniting once again. As they reached each other, Eragon bent his knees slightly and leaned down to embrace Orik, forgoing any sort of formal greeting with his foster brother.

Laughing in his deep voice, Orik returned the gesture. They quickly separated, giving Saphira the opportunity to lower her head so that she could look Orik in the eyes. _King Orik, _she said. _It pleases me to see you again._

"Blast, if it isn't good to see you as well!" Orik replied. "Both of you," he added, gesturing at Eragon.

"How have you been, Orik?" Eragon asked kindly.

"Well enough, and you?" He replied. But, before Eragon could respond, he glanced back at the dwarves behind him. "How about we catch up on the way back to the Varden? The dwarves have been marching all day, and I would not want to keep them waiting while we exchange pleasantries."

Eragon shook his head. "Saphira and I are expected back at the Varden soon for a celebration. Would you like to fly there with us?" 

Orik appeared thoughtful for a long moment, and then nodded with a grin on his face. "How could I say no? Just promise that you won't do anything crazy, Saphira."

She snorted, blowing a puff of smoke at Orik. In a resigned voice she said, _As you wish._

Eragon waited patiently as Orik beckoned to one of the dwarves that had been marching with him. The dwarf hurried up, looking somewhat fearful of Saphira, and waited for Orik's command.

"Garok," Orik said. "Lead the dwarves to Belatona and make sure they settle comfortably. I'm going to be flying there with Eragon and Saphira."

"What about your guards?" Garok asked, speaking in an strong accent that Eragon wasn't quite able to place.

"I trust Eragon and his elvish guard to protect me until you arrive." Garok glanced at Eragon, and then slowly nodded. "Go," Orik commanded, gesturing towards Belatona.

Garok returned to the dwarves and gave the order to resume marching as soon as Saphira took flight. Realizing that they were in the way, Eragon gracefully leaped into the saddle. From below, Orik stared up at him and grumbled, "How am I supposed to get up there now, Eragon?"

With a faint smile, Eragon held out his hand and motioned upwards. Orik cursed to himself as he quickly rose several feet. As soon as Eragon had pulled him onto Saphira's back he released his spell and fastened the saddle straps around Orik's legs.

As soon as Eragon finished, Saphira turned herself around and jumped into the sky, flapping a few times so that she flew high enough to clear the walls of the city, but not bothering to ascend much further due to the short distance that they were traveling.

"Eragon," Orik called, shouting over the sound of the wind. "Islanzadí never contacted me about Arya's condition. What did you say to her to keep her so distant?"

Eragon gently pressed against Orik's mind so that they could speak mentally, and Orik hesitantly released his barriers. Not invading any further than needed to speak, Eragon said, _Nothing. You can ask her about it tonight if you really want. _

_Tonight? She is here?_

_Yes. _

_Why? _Orik questioned.

Eragon stiffened. _Orik? _he asked carefully. _How much do you know about the last couple weeks?_

_We've had no news for quite some time. The dwarves did not march through Surda, as such we passed through the last of our cities nearly three weeks ago. We haven't received word from the Varden or elves since. Since that was the case, we assumed everything has been going according to plan. _Orik paused for a second, and then asked, _Why? Did something happen?_

Eragon thought about the best way to answer Orik's question. He was about to tell Orik the full story, but Saphira quickly whispered a few words in his mind and he couldn't help but smile to himself in amusement. Doing his best to appear genuine, he said, _Nothing important. It caught me off guard that you did not know Islanzadí was here._

_Ah, _Orik said, apparently believing Eragon.

Privately, to Saphira, Eragon whispered, _He's never going to forgive me for not telling him. _

_Don't be so dramatic, _she responded with a snort. _It's all in good fun. If he won't let me fly as I wish, I will amuse myself at his expense._

_Be fair, _said Eragon. _You would have done the same thing even if he had let you fly as you want._

There was silence across their link for a long minute, and then she said, _Perhaps. _Eragon mentally shook his head.

Eragon felt Orik tighten his arms around him as Saphira glided down towards the city's center, where the Varden had decided to hold the celebration. Eragon quickly dismounted, helping Orik down as well. He cast out his mind in search of Arya, immediately finding her close by.

_Eragon. _She said simply, affection in her tone.

_Arya, where are you? _

She sent him an image of a large table with eight seats around it. _I'm inside with Nasuada and my mother. You should see all that they have set up in such a short time. _Eragon thought he heard a trace of amusement in her words, but he couldn't be sure.

_I'll be right there. I have a special guest with me._

_Who might that be? _She asked with interest.

_Someone we all forgot, _he said simply, withdrawing from her mind and beckoning to Orik and Saphira.

Together, they made their way into the area. Saphira quickly branched off to a large platter of meat that was clearly set up for her, while Orik and Eragon continued on to where Arya and the others were at.

Eragon marveled at everything that had happened in such a short time. Only a day ago he had been fighting Galbatorix in the very same spot, but in such a short time it had been changed into a safe and happy location.

There were dozens of round tables all on one side of the courtyard. Eragon was able to make out the figures of Arya, Nasuada, Islanzadí, Roran, Orrin, and Jörmundur all sitting together at the table closest to edge of the arrangement, making it so they had the best view of the things happening on the other side courtyard.

On the other side Eragon saw several sword duels happening. There was an organized riddling contest, all of which was available for anyone to participate in. Also, there was a large mirror in full view of all the tables. He wasn't sure what to expect.

He noticed Orik glancing around with interest as well, and the dwarf said, "What is all of this about anyway?"

Eragon smiled at him. "Nasuada said that this was a party in my honor, so I suppose I'm the guest of honor."

Orik cast him a sideways glance. "You must have impressed her greatly for her to go to all this trouble." Eragon laughed, not bothering to reply.

They quickly reached the table, and Eragon greeted the assembled kings and queens, drawing their attention. All six of them turned in his direction, and Eragon couldn't help but laugh at their expressions as they saw Orik.

Nasuada's was the most surprised, she had her hand over her open mouth. Islanzadí just stared, Arya appeared amused. Jörmundur looked embarrassed, and Orrin and Roran both cursed in surprised tones.

"What?" Orik asked, looking angry at their strange reactions to his presence.

Nasuada sighed, dropping into the nearest chair. "King Orik, let me be the first to apologize for not contacting you recently. We must have forgotten."

Orik waved his hand dismissively. "It isn't an issue. Your reactions are the biggest concern I have." He gestured around. "You seem to have done a fine job conquering Belatona. There was no need to contact me."

Nasuada glanced at Eragon, and she appeared to connect the dots as she smiled widely. Clearly trying to control her amusement, she said, "Thank you, Orik. I'm glad that you and the dwarves have finally arrived, and in time for this celebration no less."

"Indeed," King Orrin added.

Nasuada stood back up and gestured at the seven empty chairs at their table. "Please sit and I'll make the opening statement now that Eragon is here."

Everyone seemed to be waiting for Eragon to sit down, so he did. Arya sat next, making sure that she was next to him. Roran sat to his left, and then Islanzadí took her seat next to Arya. Orik decided to sit next to Roran, leaving Jörmundur and Orrin to take the seats on either side of Nasuada.

Eragon glanced around briefly and noted that his guards, along with Nasuada's Nighthawks, were all seated at the tables around them. Everyone seemed to be dressed casually for the event, including himself and the other leaders. In truth, he was only interested in what Arya was wearing, which was a simple emerald tunic with long pants. Even with the simple attire she looked absolutely stunning.

She noticed him staring at her and she smiled at him. "How was your day?" she asked softly.

"Peaceful," he replied simply.

With a nod, she said, "It is a nice change."

They were kept from saying anything else by Nasuada. She stood up, tapping her glass to get everyone's attention. The assembled people quickly grew quiet as they waited for her to speak. .

She drew a deep breath, and then said, "Yesterday the tides of this war turned in our favor, as you all no doubt know by now. It is a day that must be celebrated, which is why we are here now. Tonight we have some of the finest food available, games of swordplay and riddles for those interested, and several other things. It has come to my attention that many of you were not able to watch yesterday's extraordinary events. I spoke with Queen Islanzadí of the elves about how we might be able to recreate that, and she told me of a particular form of magic that would suit this quite well." She gestured at Islanzadí. "Queen Islanzadí, if you would explain it please..."

Islanzadí stood up, cleared her throat, and said, "There is a method of magic called scrying, which is used to generate an image of something you are thinking of. This image is usually displayed on a reflective surface such as a mirror or pool of water. It is also possible for one create an image of a memory on the mirror."

Nasuada nodded at her in thanks. "Eragon, if you could be the one to do it I think everyone would be pleased. If you decline one of the other elves will substitute their memory of the event."

Eragon glanced at Arya, and then at Saphira, who was sitting some distance away in front of a platter of food. They both seemed to approve, so he stood up with a small sigh. Raising his voice so that everyone could hear, he said, "I will gladly share my memory of the event, but I must say a few words before I do." He cleared his throat. "A memory shared by this method is incomplete by nature. You will not be able to experience the magical part of the battle. Also, I might be forced to hide certain things in the memory because of promises I've made to others. If this is acceptable, I'll share my memory. If not, one of the elves can share their version."

The Varden crowd seemed almost unanimous in their cheers of approval for Eragon showing his version, which brought a smile to his face. He waved his hands for them to quiet down, and then he nodded at Nasuada and Islanzadí, both of whom were still standing. They took their seats as he made his way over to the mirror.

Eragon gathered his thoughts, remembering all the details that he could from yesterday's events. He also took care to cut out any images of his necklace glowing, as he did not want people knowing that was his source of power.

Satisfied, he placed one hand on the side of the mirror. He closed his eyes and felt out the mirror with his mind, infusing it with his memory. It was so much more simple than the several dozen lines of elvish that he would have had to recite in order to summon the magic in the traditional way.

Eragon opened his eyes and examined his work, a small grin on his face. It was the first time he had attempted a spell of that nature, and the result seemed flawless. There, on the surface of the mirror, was a image of his memory of his fight with Galbatorix. He had decided to start the memory as he and the elves first entered Belatona, choosing to skip the conversation beforehand and also anything that might have hinted at him being in Utgard.

The crowd had cheered briefly when the image appeared, but since then they had become rather quiet. As he walked back to the table, Eragon could hear many of the people whispering about what they were seeing, or, in some cases, talking about unrelated things.

He noticed Orik giving him a puzzled look as he sat back down between Arya and Roran. The dwarf king asked, "Barzûl, Eragon, don't keep me in suspense. What's this all about?"

"Let's just say," Roran responded, a grin on his face. "That Eragon is about to do the impossible." 

Orik harrumphed at the dodgy response, so Eragon added, "You won't have to wait long. You'll understand as soon as I reach the center of the city." He glanced up at the mirror, noting that it showed him glancing around at the Empire's soldiers while they walked.

Appearing to finally understand that nobody was going to fill him in, Orik changed tact and instead began speaking to Islanzadí and her daughter. "Arya Svit-kona," he said respectfully. "I feel that I must apologize for what happened to you recently at the hands of Az Sweldn Rak Anhûin." Before Arya replied, he turned to the queen and added, "Also, I am most grateful that you have not appeared to allow this incident to interfere with our struggle against Galbatorix."

Arya responded with a simple nod, and Islanzadí said, "I cannot speak for my daughter in this, but I don't hold you or the dwarves responsible. At first I did, but Eragon's explanation of his feud with Az Sweldn Rak Anhûin helped me identify the true wrongdoers."

"Still," Orik mused. "I have wondered why you or Arya never contacted me on the matter." 

"Not to downplay the seriousness of the offense, but it was not a chief concern of mine once I knew that Arya was being cared for by Eragon and that she would recover. If that was not the case, then I would have most certainly contacted you."

"Orik," Eragon interjected. "If you're so curious about what this memory is, you might want to look at the mirror."

An expression of shock spread across Orik's face as he turned towards the mirror and saw Eragon approaching Galbatorix. He flicked his gaze back to Eragon, and Eragon winked at him, a small smile on his face. Orik didn't bother to reply, instead choosing to glue his eyes to the mirror and watch the events unfold.

For about an hour Eragon was unable to speak to anyone, as they were all watching the mirror intently. Bored, he yawned and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. To Saphira, he asked, _How is your meal?_

_I don't think that I'll require food until we at least reach Gil'ead. The Varden is quite generous._

_Speaking of Gil'ead, when do you think we should begin our journey there?_

_Well, it would be improper for us to arrive before the Queen, and she is leaving tomorrow._

_It's a three or four day run to Gil'ead, _Eragon commented.

_Then we should leave in three days. That should give you enough time to settle any matters with Nasuada and Roran._

_Assuming Arya agrees, that sounds fine._

Saphira snorted in response. Coincidentally, at the same time, Arya yawned next to him. "Tired?" he whispered, noting how quiet everyone else was as they watched the mirror.

"A little," she admitted. "I spent the afternoon sparring with some of the elves."

Eragon smiled faintly, suspecting her reasons. He didn't bother to inquire whether or not she won, and instead changed the subject. "Saphira thinks we should leave for Gil'ead in three days. Is that alright with you?" 

Arya shrugged. "It matters not. I could leave tomorrow if we had to, but three days sounds fine."

"It's settled then," Eragon said.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be more interested in watching his memory than actually having a conversation, leaving him to become quite bored.

After over an hour of boredom, the memory finally ended. Everyone applauded Eragon heartily for what he had done. In return, he stood up and smiled, turning in a circle slowly and waving his hands at all those around him.

He sat back down in his seat when he had made a full rotation, returning his attention to those around him as the applause died out

Eragon found Orik staring at him with a wide grin. "Eragon, it seems that there is much you have to share with me. You couldn't do most of that the last time we spoke. What has changed? And by all the gods above and below, how did you transform yourself into a dragon?" 

Eragon laughed. "Orik, most of it is secret, but what I can tell you here, now, is that it has a great deal to do with what happened at the Agaetí Blödhren."

"Oh?"

And so Eragon recounted how he had been changed into a dragon-elf, but he left out the part about the dragon magic. Orik would not have understood it all that well and if someone overheard it the information would have certainly reached Galbatorix.

"That doesn't really explain much," Orik commented sourly

"I know," Eragon replied. "Just trust me when I say that most of what is involved needs to be kept a secret for now."

Orik stared Eragon down for a time, and then nodded slowly. "I trust you Eragon, of course."

"Good!" Nasuada exclaimed. "Now, if the two of you might remember there are other people at this table." All of them laughed at her joke.

With the ice broken, the conversation quickly changed into much more lighthearted topics. They ate, drank, and talked as friends. About halfway through the evening, a rather interesting topic came up. Orrin mentioned, "You know, I seem to remember Murtagh and Nasuada sharing several rather dreamy looks while Galbatorix was, how did he put it? _Negotiating _with us." He snorted. "Anything we might want to know about?"

Eragon's eyes widened as he saw Nasuada blush slightly and try to deny it, but she was an awful liar. He glanced to the side at Arya to gauge her reaction, expecting mild surprise, but instead she appeared frustrated. "Nasuada, is there something you want to tell us about?" Jörmundur asked slyly.

Eragon knew that Nasuada would have _never _agreed to explain herself if she were sober, but for whatever reason, she answered Jörmundur with an embarrassed expression. "Oh, I don't know," she said, cheeks pink despite her dark skin. "There was a spark between us in Farthen Dûr, but nothing ever came of it. When we were defeated last week it all seemed so hopeless..."

"So you slept with Murtagh to take your mind off trying to help the Varden out of their predicament?" Arya questioned.

"No, of course not," Nasuada snapped. "It wasn't like that...I hoped that I could gain some sort of leverage or a voice that Galbatorix might actually listen to by it."

"You're sure your personal feelings were not the reason?" Orrin teased, still amused about the situation.

Nasuada glanced down. "As I said, there was a spark. But being with someone was...nice, I suppose. I don't know if I feel that way because of Murtagh or just because of the situation." She grabbed a short glass of mead and downed it in a single swallow. "Any other _questions_?"

"Only one," Islanzadí said in a perfectly flat, serious tone. "Did you ever stop to consider what might happen if you got pregnant from this? What effect that would have on the war?"

Nasuada uttered a bark of laughter. "No, but then again, there was no war a week ago. We were defeated. We're only here because of whatever miracle that Eragon managed to conjure up.'

"I think," Eragon said, feeling the need to be the mediator. "That this topic would be better addressed, if it is even appropriate, when we are not affected by mead and Faelnirv." Frankly, he was quite disturbed by the idea of his brother and Nasuada being together, even for such a short time, but he knew there was little he could do about it. Regardless of personal or family acquaintances, Murtagh was the enemy, and Eragon knew that he would have to kill him next time they met.

Fortunately, all of that was forgotten with another glass of Faelnirv, allowing Eragon to enjoy the evening with his friends and family.


	15. Chapter 15: Baby Hope

Chapter 15: Baby Hope

Eragon tapped his foot impatiently. He and Saphira were standing together just outside of his tent. Saphira's saddlebags were bulging with things for their upcoming journey. They were supposed to leave five minutes ago, but Arya forgot something.

There was a reasonable sized crowd of people around them, meaning their guards were also present. It seemed that rumor of their departure had spread quickly and everyone wanted to farewell the Rider and dragon.

A slight commotion broke out on one side of the crowd, causing Eragon to sigh and withdraw into his mind to avoid being disturbed. Arya reappeared a moment later with two small flowers. Upon closer inspection, he realized that they were golden lilies. He was about to comment on her thoughtfulness when a familiar voice broke through the crowd, catching his attention.

He quickly spotted one of Horst's sons, Albreich, engaging in a shoving fight in an attempt to get past Blödhgarm. "Eragon, Eragon!" he called.

Eragon was concerned by how tired and desperate he looked. He quickly called Blödhgarm's name and said, "It's okay. Let him through." Blödhgarm glanced back at Eragon for a long moment, and then stepped aside, allowing Albreich to rush past and come to a halt before Eragon, panting for breath.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Eragon said, "Take your time." He glanced at Arya, noting that she appeared impatient to leave, but she did not comment on the occurrence and instead opted to climb onto Saphira in preparation to leave.

Baldor finally caught his breath enough to say, "My mother went into labor a few hours ago. Gertrude says that it goes badly and that she won't make it through the birth." Eragon noticed Albreich holding back tears. "I would have stayed, but my father ordered me to find you. He said that you promised-" Albreich seemed too exhausted to finish his sentence.

Eragon finished it for him. "I promised that I'd help Elain if it was needed. I remember." Albreich nodded, staring at him hopefully. He glanced at Arya again and she gave an almost imperceptible nod, so he nodded to Albreich. "Alright, where is she?" 

"Gertrude's tent, on the other side of the city. We have to hurry, Gertrude said she did not have long left and that the baby might not be born healthy because of her condition."

Alarmed by the severity of her health, Eragon glanced down, worried that he might not be able to fully deliver on the promise he had made Horst. Healing a mother and managing a birth would be no easy task, even with the aid of magic.

Eragon abruptly leaped up onto Saphira's back and sat in front of Arya. He leaned all the way over and stretched one of his arms down. "Take my hand."

Albreich glanced around nervously, but his fear for his mother and her baby got the better of him and he reached up to grab Eragon's hand. Eragon pulled his arm up easily, lifting Albreich up onto Saphira's back as easily as he might lift a sword. He placed Albreich in front of him in the saddle so that he could keep him from falling.

Saphira didn't give Albreich any time to prepare for what was next. She jumped into the sky abruptly, flapping quickly to ascend high enough. As she did so Eragon reached out with his mind and said to Blödhgarm, _We'll be at the Carvahall tents for a little while. Bring a few elves, preferably ones that are experienced in child birth if possible._

_Shadeslayer._

Saphira banked over the Varden, angling herself towards the Carvahall tents. Eragon was impressed by how well Albreich had handled flying up to that point. His body was as tense as a fully drawn bow, but he had controlled himself enough to not scream in fear.

It only took moments in the air for Saphira to reach the tents, transitioning into a shallow dive as she approached her destination. For her Rider's sake, she landed softly and without flourish. Eragon and Arya dismounted Saphira first, leaving Albreich alone on her back. "Jump!" Eragon called up to him, holding out his arms.

Albreich hesitated, glancing down at the distance to the ground, but quickly jumped towards Eragon's outstretched arms, closing his eyes as he fell.

"Letta," Eragon muttered, slowing his fall so he touched the ground softly. "You can open your eyes now," Eragon added a moment later, amused.

Eragon, Arya, and Albreich hurried over to the tent with dozens of people gathered around it. Eragon spotted Roran, Baldor, and a score of other people from Carvahall gathered around with concerned looks. Roran and Baldor both approached them as they jogged towards the tent.

"Eragon, you're here," Roran said. "Do whatever you can to save her."

"Of course," he replied, flashing a small smile at his cousin.

"Do you really think you can save her?" Baldor asked Eragon incredulously.

Eragon turned his head to meet Baldor's gaze. "I'm not sure. I'll have to assess her condition first, but I'll try everything I can."

"I will assist as well," Arya added, her musical voice ringing out in a calm and assuring manner.

They reached the tent entrance and Baldor bowed to them. "I know not of the workings of magic, but thank you for anything you can do."

Eragon nodded. He then pushed the flap aside and entered the tent with Arya, letting it close behind them. Everyone in the tent immediately turned to look at the new arrivals. Four women, including Gertrude, stood next to the bed tending to Elain. Horst was sitting in the corner of the tent with his head in his hands.

At Eragon's arrival, Horst got up and shook his hand firmly, a relieved expression on his face. "Eragon, thank you for coming so quickly."

"We will do our best to help," Eragon replied, placing his other hand over their handshake before releasing Horst's hand and moving over to Elain. Her condition was as expected. She laid on a makeshift bed, her legs propped up to allow for the baby to come out and for the catcher to work. Eragon noted the sweat dripping from her forehead and the expression of profound grief on her face.

Arya and Eragon glanced at each other, both worried about her condition. She said, "If you can attend to keeping her alive, I can work on the child." Eragon agreed.

"What exactly does that mean?" one of the women asked suspiciously. The three standing women had moved to form a barrier between Elain and the two elves. "How can we be sure that you will not harm the child."

Eragon was confused by their opposition, but Arya clearly understood it. "Move aside, human. Elves are not the child-abducting monsters that Galbatorix would have you believe. The longer you keep us from her, the less chance we have of saving her life."

The women seemed to hesitate, but then Horst said in his deep rumble. "Get out of the way. I trust them." They finally moved aside enough for Eragon and Arya to get to Elain. Out of decency, Eragon stood by Elain's side rather than by Arya in the space between her legs.

Eragon gripped Elain's hand and said softly, "Elain, we need your permission to work magic on you."

She looked into his eyes. He could tell that the idea of being affected by magic frightened her. In a weak voice she said, "I grant it, only if you promise it will not have an unnatural effect on my child."

"I promise," he whispered.

Arya began chanting in the Ancient Language. Her spell seemed to be causing Elain some pain, so Eragon quickly cast a spell similar to the one that Galbatorix had used to create soldiers who felt no pain. As soon as it took effect he observed that her face cleared somewhat and she looked much more healthy, at least on the outside.

"Is it done?" Gertrude asked in awe at Elain's change. "So quickly, so effortlessly?"

Eragon shook his head. "No. All that I have done is cast a simple spell that will keep her from feeling the pain she was enduring. I still have to determine the best way to heal her."

"Oh," the old woman said, moving back slightly.

Ordinarily, Eragon would have had to consult with Saphira about how to properly word his healing spell, but because of his new found control of magic, he merely had to determine what was wrong with her before casting his spell.

It took Eragon a few minutes of examining Elain's body with his mind for him to determine exactly what was wrong, in which time Arya continued to chant the same few lines in the Ancient Language over and over again.

While Eragon could cast his spell instantaneously, the damage to Elain's internal organs was considerable and Eragon found himself having to maintain the control over his magic for nearly an hour to fully heal her. During that time, the four women and Horst watched Arya and Eragon silently.

Finally, when at last the spell was complete, he sighed and leaned back, thoroughly satisfied with his work. It was likely the most complex healing he had ever done, and just to make sure it was complete, he closed his eyes and examined Elain's body with his mind once more, ensuring that everything had been repaired correctly. It had.

"Now is it done?" Gertrude asked again.

Eragon turned to her worried face and nodded, a small smile present on his own. "It is. Now all we do is wait for the baby. Arya is still working on helping it come out."

"So she is healthy again?" Horst asked in awe, coming up to Eragon.

"Yes," Eragon confirmed. He smiled as he saw his old friend's eyes water. Horst embraced Eragon in a bear hug then, causing Eragon to grunt in surprise.

_Eragon! _Arya called in his mind. _Grab a blanket. The baby is here._

"Horst," Eragon said, trying to extricate himself. "Arya needs me."

The smith quickly released Eragon, glancing at the other elf curiously. It only took Eragon a moment to glance around and find a small blanket that was clearly meant for the baby. He snatched it from a table and hurried over to Arya's side, much to the surprise of the women present. It was unheard of for a man to view someone's birth, but Eragon didn't care, and neither did Horst.

Eragon saw the head of the baby and most of it's torso coming out of Elain. Arya was supporting the child with one hand, but Eragon quickly relieved the burden as he placed the blanket under the child.

It's waist and legs did not take nearly as long to emerge as the rest of it had, during which Eragon noticed everyone in the tent watching over his shoulder in awe. As the child fully emerged, Arya slashed the umbilical cord with Brisingr, drawing it from the sheath just enough to cut the cord. She proceeded to attend to the baby's bellybutton as Eragon gently wiped the baby with one side of the blanket, removing any residue and fluid from it's body. He noted the gender of the child before wrapping it with the blanket and proffering it to Horst. "It's a girl."

Eragon thought that he had never seen a more tender expression upon the hardened smith's face than when he took the child from the blanket. The others gathered around Horst and began admiring the child.

Arya winked at him as she leaned back and sighed in exhaustion,. Her spell had clearly taken quite a large deal of energy.

Horst reluctantly surrendered the child to Elain a few moments later. Eragon would have watched the mother hold her baby girl, but Horst came up to him and Arya then. He knelt before Eragon, who was seated on a short stool. "I am forever in your debt, both of you. Words cannot describe my gratitude for what you've done here."

Eragon glanced back at Arya, who was standing a short distance behind him. He knew that she required no payment for the service, so he clapped Horst on the shoulder. "Any debt that you might have owed me has been more than paid for by your hospitality and friendship during my entire life, but especially after my farm was destroyed. You owe me nothing."

Horst stood up then, nodding at Eragon. "You are a good man Eragon. Garrow would be proud of what you have become." Eragon felt pride from Horst's statement. He turned to Arya. "And you, elf. I am in your debt as well."

Arya shook her head. "You are not." She glanced at Eragon before adding, "Elves consider having a child to be the greatest commitment of love and trust that you can make. It is therefore an honor to assist a child bearer in any way possible."

Horst bowed. "Galbatorix portrays your race so wrongly. You are indeed the fair folk." Arya inclined her head, a small smile on her face. Elain thanked them as well, but the conversation was not nearly as drawn out as it had been with Horst, as she was clearly exhausted from giving birth.

"One thing remains," Arya said. "You have yet to declare a name for her."

Horst glanced at Elain. "She will be named after the most valuable gift that Eragon has given us all: Hope."

Eragon felt tears come to his eyes. He had always looked up to Horst as he grew up, but to be receiving such a level of respect from him was incredible. It was Arya that said, "A fitting name."

Elain's eyes drooped closed and she fell asleep on the bed. The four women and Horst rushed to her side with concerned looks, but Eragon said, "Don't worry, she is just tired."

The four women whispered amongst each other for a moment, and then moved to stand before Eragon and Arya once again. "We would like to apologize for our earlier actions," they said. "We did not know..."

Eragon was about to brush it aside, but Arya spoke in a rather harsh tone. "Ignorance is no excuse for offensive behavior." They bowed their heads in shame. Eragon gave Arya a disapproving look, so she sighed and added, "I shall forgive you. In the future, though, do not judge someone on rumors and fabricated stories." They nodded before retreating to the other side of the tent, clearly embarrassed.

Eragon and Arya excused themselves, knowing that they were quite behind schedule on their trip to Gil'ead. They exited the tent, but were unable to make it any further. Albreich and Baldor blocked their path, and Roran stood a few feet off to the side. "What has happened?" Baldor demanded impatiently. "Why have you left the tent so early."

Eragon glanced at Arya, and then stuck his head back into the tent. "Horst, come," he called.

Horst came out of the tent a moment later with the wrapped child in his arms and everyone immediately lost interest in Eragon and Arya, instead opting to crowd Horst and inquire about the baby.

They seized the opportunity to mount Saphira. The dragon was about to take off when Baldor and Albreich both approached them cautiously. "Thank you!" they called up.

Eragon smiled down at them, and then Saphira took to the skies, angling herself northwards and ascending beyond the cloud layer.

_You did well, little ones._

Eragon turned around and smiled at Arya, who was behind him.

**(Skip)

Pure blackness covered the entire plains, all except one small campfire somewhere between Urû'baen and the Spine. Eragon leaned against Saphira's side, his bare feet only a couple feet from the edge of the fire. His dragon was curled up in a ball behind him.

Eragon had his right arm wrapped around Arya's back while she rested her head on his upper chest as they laid together. Absolute silence, all but the crackling of the fire, reigned over the camp. They had spent the entire day discussing politics, the war, and every possible trouble they could think of.

They sat in silence for a bit longer, until memories from earlier in the day began flashing through Eragon's mind. In a soft voice, he asked, "Have you ever wanted to have children, Arya?"

"Eragon, we just got together a few days ago..."

He kissed her forehead. "Not now. I was just wondering."

She smiled. "I'll admit, I've occasionally imagined having a child after the war. How about you?"

He shifted. "The thought has crossed my mind several times-"

"How many times did the thought involve me?" she interrupted with a wide grin. Saphira snorted loudly in amusement.

Eragon's cheeks flushed red, but he didn't refuse to answer the question. "I would occasionally think of it while I lived in Carvahall, but I haven't imagined having a child with anyone but you."

Arya tilted her head and kissed him on the lips softly. "Perhaps after the war...when we have time..."

_At least you have the sense to wait that long, _Saphira commented.

"Besides," Arya added. "I think my mother will support our relationship, especially giving the circumstances, what with the necklaces and all, but she would become enraged if she found out I was with child so soon after becoming mates with you."

Eragon nodded. "It is something to look forward to one day, when duty permits."

"One day," Arya repeated in what seemed like a longing voice.

_Little ones, _Saphira said, covering them with her wing. _We should rest. Tomorrow we have a great distance to travel._

Eragon nodded. _Good night then. _

Arya kissed him once again. "Good night," she whispered.


	16. Chapter 16: Back in Gil'ead

Chapter 16: Back in Gil'ead

A chilling gust of wind rocked Saphira slightly. It was nearly sundown, but they had made it to Gil'ead on their second day of travel. A strong tailwind had allowed Saphira to cover many extra leagues. They had also taken to flying as high as possible, reducing the wind resistance.

Saphira began to descend in lazy spirals towards the small dot on the ground below them that happened to be the city of Gil'ead. As she did so, Eragon felt Arya brush against his consciousness. To his surprise, she didn't speak after being granted entrance, instead opting to allow him to feel her emotions.

Eragon quickly understood why. It had become apparent to him that Arya had a hard time articulating her feelings when fear was involved, and at that point fear was one of her only emotions. It was not a fear of dying, or of her mother, or of any other thing in Gil'ead, but rather a fear of the memories she had from her imprisonment in Gil'ead. Despite confiding in Eragon, Arya was still apprehensive about returning to the city she had been so mercilessly tortured and abused in,

Since Arya was sitting in front of him at the time, Eragon wrapped his arms around her as comfortingly as possible. In her mind he said in a soft and understanding tone, _Arya, you know I would do anything for you, fight any battle, climb any mountain, but not even I can keep these memories from popping up. All I can do is help you to get through them when they do. Remember, you always feel better after you let it out._

Her fear didn't seem to ease much at his words. She sighed. _Is there nothing I can do to prevent this from happening?_

Eragon thought about it for a minute, and then gave her the equivalent of a mental nod. _Yes, there is. You can choose to face the memories on your own instead of having them haunt you at their discretion. That way you are in control._

He could tell that she seemed to acknowledge the logic behind what he said, even if he wasn't one hundred percent certain himself. _Agreed, _she said. _When we land there is something I must do._

_As soon as we land? _Eragon questioned. _I'm sure your mother has organized some kind of welcome for us, and she will no doubt want to speak to you, or maybe both of us. Can it wait?_

_It won't take long, _Arya promised.

Eragon hesitated to agree, but Saphira seemed to be okay with it so he did. _I just wish you would tell me what it is you want to do._

_Better you don't know, _Arya muttered dryly.

Saphira pierced the lower cloud layer and the city became clearly visible below them. Eragon shivered at the sight of Gil'ead. It was as dark and intimidating as when he had first laid eyes on it many months before.

_Land near the prison we escaped from, _Arya said to Saphira. _Please, _she added after a moment, realizing that she should not order a dragon around. Both Eragon and Saphira kept their surprise and confusion between each other, not allowing Arya to feel their discomfort with the request.

Despite their feelings, Saphira granted Arya's request. As they dropped lower and lower in the sky Eragon noticed the clearly designated landing spot that the elves had set up for them. _The elves might take great offense to this, _he muttered to Saphira.

She snorted. _A dragon does not land at the direction of a bunch of two-legs she does not even know._

Saphira softly touched down in the street directly in front of the very prison that they had first met Durza in. Arya quickly dismounted and made to enter the building, Eragon close behind. Saphira was forced to wait outside.

_Take care of her, _Saphira told Eragon cautiously, clearly worried about what she was going to do.

Eragon hurriedly followed Arya into the prison. She brushed past the guard, ignoring him. Eragon quickly explained that they would be quick and that he wasn't to worry before catching up to Arya. She moved quickly as she passed by the row of cells they had been imprisoned in, past the dinning room Saphira had smashed, and down a staircase to a chamber underground. She stopped for a moment before a thick door, drew in a deep breath, and pushed it open.

As Eragon stepped into the room, he turned in a full circle to examine everything. The room was perhaps four times as large as a normal cell, but Eragon clearly recognized it from the memories that Arya had shared with him. There were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of different torture instruments for every possible method of inflicting pain. A lone wooden table stood in the center of the room, covered in dried blood.

Eragon knew that the blood was probably Arya's.

He came to a stop behind Arya, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Arya, we should-"

"Your sword," she said without emotion.

He hesitated. "Why?" 

She turned to look him in the eye. In her emerald orbs he saw fear, anger, and brutal hatred. He knew not what was going to happen next. "Mine does not have the required enchantments."

Again he hesitated, and then reluctantly handed her Brisingr. "Light it," she instructed. Eragon had no idea what to do in the situation, so he just went along with it and lit his sword.

He, and Saphira through his eyes, watched Arya stand motionless in the center of the room for a long minute, the flaming sword held carelessly by her side. Then, as if something had suddenly changed, she let loose a enraged scream. Eragon watched in absolute amazement as Arya proceeded to destroy _everything_ in the room. She let loose several more screams during the time.

Eragon was about to stop her after she had meticulously disassembled what looked like a bone-crushing device, but Saphira said, _No, don't._

_Why? _he demanded.

_As long as this place exists, it will cause her discomfort. Better to let her destroy it and move on._

Eragon stepped back, realizing that Saphira was right. While Arya might have cried about what she had endured, he had never heard her cry out and physically demolish an entire room in her rage. Hating himself for letting her be so miserable, he focused on not allowing the fire from Brisingr to spread to the rest of the building as Arya released her anger and pain at the expense of the instruments in the room.

Several people hurried to the room, alarmed by the shouts and destruction, but they did not have magical defenses so Eragon was able to instruct them to ignore what was going on. He knew that Arya would not appreciate people watching her.

It only took her a few minutes to reduce everything in the room to an unrecognizable pile of shards and fragments. He estimated nothing larger than his fist remained in one piece.

As soon as she finished, Arya dropped Brisingr, tears pouring down her cheeks. She collapsed into a corner, sobbing. It took Eragon a moment to sit next to her, for he was still shocked by her sudden display of emotion.

Eragon lowered himself to the ground next to her, careful to avoid sitting on any of the many sharp fragments on the ground. He pulled Arya towards him and wrapped his arms around her sobbing form, letting her cry into his chest as he muttered comforting words in her ear.

Arya's sobs gradually subsided. It was perhaps fifteen minutes later that Saphira said softly in their minds, _Little ones, the Queen has been here for some time now. I've asked her to wait, but I think she is growing her impatient._

Eragon glanced down at Arya, who had seemed to stabilize to a certain degree. Her tears still streamed down her cheeks, but she was no longer sobbing and hiccuping in grief. _Send her in I suppose. We'll make do._

He stroked Arya's back soothingly, doing everything possible to make her feel better. It worked, to an extent. Her eyes began to dry at about the time Eragon noticed Islanzadí walk through the door. The elvish queen said, "Greetings Er...what has happened here?" she exclaimed in shock.

_Arya happened, _Saphira said, snorting. Eragon thought that the dragon sounded proud of what the elf had done. Even Arya couldn't help but hiccup with a small laugh at Saphira's words.

The Queen's expression softened as she realized just how terrible Arya looked at the moment. She slowly approached and crouched in front of Eragon and Arya. "Are you alright?" she asked softly. Arya nodded against Eragon. Islanzadí sighed, but didn't directly pursue the topic. "What happened?" she asked Eragon once again.

Eragon glanced down and asked, "Do you mind if I tell her?" Arya shook her head. Eragon patted her back twice, and then looked back towards Islanzadí. He then proceeded to relate the recent events starting with his conversation with Arya on their flight down towards Gil'ead. He left out all details about what she had been subjected too.

When he was done, Islanzadí sighed, leaning against the closest wall herself. "I'm so sorry for what you had to endure my daughter." Arya didn't reply. She turned her attention to Eragon. "I must thank you as well, Eragon, for being such a good friend to Arya."

Eragon blushed slightly, his color only intensifying as Arya chuckled, withdrawing her emerald necklace from under her tunic. As she let go of it the necklace swung slightly and touched Eragon's, causing them both to glow for a brief moment. "He's much more than just a friend," Arya said proudly.

Islanzadí seemed to instantly understand what Arya meant, and what the necklaces implied. "It hardly seems-" Islanzadí hesitated, and then interrupted herself with, "I feel awful for having this conversation when you're grieving so much, my daughter."

Arya nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve in an attempt to restore her normal appearance. She pulled her head off of Eragon's chest, instead opting to sit side by side with her mate and lean against his shoulder. "Say what you will," Arya murmured. "I'll be fine." Eragon's arm was still wrapped around her back, so he squeezed her form gently, causing a very faint smile to appear on her face.

Islanzadí stared at them for a long moment, as if trying to determine what exactly her position on the matter would be. Eventually she sighed and said, "This just hardly seems appropriate."

_Queen two-legs, _Saphira said. _Is it not fitting that a Rider and a princess become mates?_

Islanzadí chuckled softly at how Saphira had addressed her, understanding that the dragon did not mean offense by the name. "I suppose." The Queen smiled. "I'm very happy for you Arya, and you as well Eragon. I just hope that this relationship doesn't interfere with the war."

"How could it?" Arya asked. "I thought it might as well, but as time went on I started to realize how foolish that thought was. It was far more distracting to deal with being alone, with living a lie."

Islanzadí nodded. "In an unrelated matter, I'm very glad that Eragon can now use his necklace against Galbatorix again." She stood up, hesitated, and then said, "I shall leave you alone for a time. We can speak tonight at your welcome celebration if you are able to attend." She began to walk away, and then stopped near the door. "Welcome to the family, Eragon Shadeslayer, son of Brom."

A thought occurred to Eragon at that moment. Islanzadí was about to leave, but he called out, "Wait." She turned around and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Did you realize that you, the Queen of the elves, are now, by dwarven laws, related to King Orik as he is my foster brother."

Islanzadí stared at him with amazement for a long moment. "You are perhaps the only person in history that could ever maintain such close and intimate relationships with the royalty of each race. It's incomprehensible. I truly wonder what will become of it after the war..." her words drifted off. She nodded, satisfied that everything was said, and then departed, leaving Eragon and Arya alone in the room together.

Eragon looked down and whispered, "Are you ready to go now?"

"Yes, I actually feel quite a bit better. Thank you so much for being with me," she said, kissing him on the lips. Eragon would have normally attempted to extend the duration of their kiss, but it just felt awkward to him given their location and the circumstances, so he allowed their lips to part after a respectable time.

They stood up together and made their way out of the building slowly, Eragon holding Arya close to his side the entire time. They were walking so slowly that Saphira said, _Little ones, hurry! I want to go to this greeting. It has been too long since I have had Faelnirv._

Eragon and Arya both laughed, for it had not even been a week.


	17. Chapter 17: It All Ends in Fire

Chapter 17: It All Ends in Fire

Eragon's clothes rippled as a cool breeze swept past. He, Saphira, Arya, Islanzadí, and several of the elvish nobles were standing together on a hill beside Glaedr and Oromis' bodies. It was two days after Eragon had arrived in Gil'ead, and it was the day of his master's farewell ceremony.

Eragon blinked once, canceling out any tears that might have been trying to escape his eyes. Beside him, Arya shifted uncomfortably, clearly impatient for what was to come.

The group stood before thousands upon thousands of elves and humans assembled at the base of the small hill. They had all gathered to farewell the final Rider of the Old Order.

Everything Eragon, Saphira, Kuthian, Arya, and Islanzadí had been working on during the last day was about to happen. They had worked ceaselessly to determine the best possible way of honoring Oromis and Glaedr. In the end, it was Kuthian who made the final decision. The funeral was to be a simple matter of speaking on behalf of the deceased, and after that Saphira would honor Glaedr and Oromis in the Rider's ancient tradition of cremating the deceased.

Islanzadí cleared her throat. The noise, amplified by magic, captured the attention of everyone present. A chilling silence settled over the assembly as they waited for the Queen to speak.

She took a few steps forward so that she was in front of her companions, standing alone, and then said, "Today is a day of sorrow, a day where we say our last goodbye to someone who was, with absolute certainty, a hero." Eragon felt his throat constrict as she spoke, noting the strong sorrow that was evident in her voice. It was his first time hearing her show so much emotion in public.

Islanzadí continued, "This ceremony shall be simple. I will begin by relating the story of Oromis and Glaedr. Immediately following, several people who were close friends with them shall have the opportunity to honor them with their words. The ceremony shall conclude with Saphira cremating their bodies, an ancient Rider tradition."

When there was no reaction to her introduction, which was to be expected, Islanzadí paused, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. She then related the entire tale of their lives, which Eragon recognized as being an almost word for word copy of what Oromis had told him about his past.

Eragon was unable to fully suppress his emotions as Islanzadí continued speaking of their lives. She told of how Glaedr had hatched for Oromis, about how they had been trained as Rider and Dragon, and about all of their accomplishments during over a century of active duty. Then she got to the point where she began to speak of their friendship with the lead rider, and of their service as teachers and advisers.

Several tears slid down his cheek. He made to wipe them off with his right hand, but halted the motion. He realized that he and Arya had clasped hands without even noticing. Somehow, that small gesture from Arya made him feel just a little bit better. It didn't erase his sorrow, nor Saphira's, whom had decided that it would be wise to separate their minds during the ceremony so their emotions did not overwhelm each other, but it did remind him that he was not alone.

Islanzadí wrapped up her tale shortly after. When she stopped speaking Eragon raised his head and surveyed the crowd. The humans seemed relatively impressed by the story, but the elves all bore expressions of sorrow. Most of them had been alive during at least part of Oromis and Glaedr's lives and had at one point or another associated with him.

After her respectable pause, Islanzadí concluded by saying, "Now Oromis and Glaedr's close friends shall speak in his honor. The first to speak shall be my daughter, Arya Dröttningu.

Arya made eye contact with Eragon as her name was called. He knew how much she did not want to do what she was about to, but he also knew that she spent much of the day before agonizing over how best to speak about Oromis and Glaedr. She had practiced her speech in front of him and it had brought tears to his eyes. He gave her a small nod, a squeeze of their interlocked hands, and then released his grip on her hand, signaling her that it was time.

She sighed, and then took Islanzadí's place before the gathered elves and humans. With one final glance over her shoulder at Eragon, or perhaps it was the corpses of Oromis and Glaedr behind him, she nodded. "In the past one hundred years," she began. "The lives of elves have been filled with tension and anticipation. We had one hope of defeating Galbatorix and saving our race, and he now stands behind me. I think that the vast majority of you feel the same as I do when I say that having Oromis and Glaedr still amongst us was an immense relief. Even if you didn't know them personally, you could at least rest at peace knowing that when Saphira eventually did hatch, her Rider would be trained by one of the wisest Riders from the old order.

"For me it was more than that. I have not had a particularly happy life. My father was killed by Galbatorix when I was only an infant, and then, as you all know, I was exiled due to disagreements with my mother. In all those years of living on the outside, of not having a family, I was always able to turn to Oromis and Glaedr in a time of need. In a sense, Oromis became the father that Evandar was unable to be." The gathered audience might not have noticed, but Eragon could tell that Arya was fighting with all of her strength to hold back tears.

"Throughout the years, I continued to lose friends and companions. I dealt with hundreds of struggles while serving as our emissary to the Varden. In that time both Oromis and Glaedr continued to lend me their wisdom and companionship. Though I might not have been able to spend as much time as I wanted to in their presence, I shall never forget their role in where I am today." Arya reached up to wipe her eyes with her sleeve. "With that in mind, I say farewell to Oromis and Glaedr, who were family to me."

The crowd applauded her speech, clearing feeling that she had spoken well on behalf of Oromis and Glaedr. Eragon had to wipe his eyes as well. While he had already heard her speech, it still struck deep in his heart, as her story was eerily similar to his own.

Arya stepped back after a moment, and as soon as the clapping ceased, Islanzadí said, "Eragon Shadeslayer shall now speak on behalf of himself and Saphira."

Eragon stepped forward, feeling extremely nervous. He had worked for hours on his speech, but he was completely unsatisfied with it. Both Arya and Saphira had assured them that it was fine, but he couldn't help feeling that he was about to let Oromis and Glaedr down. He considered asking Saphira for her opinion, but decided against it, knowing exactly what she would say.

Eragon stood before the elves and humans in silence for a long minute, thinking furiously about what to do. He glanced back at Oromis and Glaedr's bodies, and that image was enough to decide the matter in his head.

Speaking slowly, he began by saying, "I did not sleep last night. I laid awake trying to come up with the best possible speech to honor my fallen masters. I was unsatisfied with the finished product, and I have come to realize that no words that I speak before you now will ever serve to honor Oromis and Glaedr to the extent that they deserve."

Eragon gazed over the crowd. He had their undivided attention. No one moved, wondering what he would say next.

"Oromis and Glaedr lived their lives in service to the people, to the best of their abilities. They held themselves, and those around them, to the highest standards. Saphira and I both feel extraordinarily fortunate to have been able to study under them for as long as we did. They are the reason we have been able to hold our own against Galbatorix and Murtagh." Eragon paused for a moment. He was completely improvising his speech and he felt that he was drifting slightly off course from what he wanted to say.

"You have heard the tale of their lives from Queen Islanzadí, but what she did not say is that Oromis and Glaedr hated morbid ceremonies. Were they here now, they would not want us to expend our resources to remember their glory, not that they don't deserve it. They would want us to remember them for who they were, what they did, and what they stood for, and then they would want us to move on." Eragon felt his voice rise in volume. "Everything that Oromis and Glaedr worked on in the last hundred years has been in anticipation of their eventual deaths and in the hope that through their deaths we would have gained enough of an advantage to finally end Galbatorix's reign. They would not want us to drench the countryside with our tears, but rather focus our emotions and use the anger and remorse that we all feel to help defeat Galbatorix." Eragon paused for a moment, noting the absolute silence except for his voice. He could actually see several tears in closest elves' eyes.

"With that in mind, Saphira and I now bid our final farewell to our masters. They were powerful Riders, dedicated to their work. They enforced peace, taught countless Riders, including my father, Brom, and they have given us our best chance in the last hundred years of defeating Galbatorix. But, above all else, they were _good_ friends. May their names live on in glory."

Eragon bowed his head as the elves and humans loudly applauded his speech. Saphira roared in approval, and he found himself feeling quite content with what he had said. It had been completely improvised, but it had been a success.

When the applause began to quiet, Eragon returned to Arya and Islanzadí's side. He saw Arya's eyes sparkle as she looked at him. "That went well," Eragon remarked.

Islanzadí choked out a small laugh, despite the circumstances. "It couldn't have gone better. You spoke very well, Eragon. More importantly, you honored Oromis and Glaedr while at the same time motivating the crowd. Impressive."

Eragon was more overwhelmed by Islanzadí's praise than he had been from the thunderous applause he had received. He bowed his head, grateful for her praise. The queen nodded after a moment, and then stepped forward again to speak. While she did so, Saphira touched his mind and said, _Well done, Eragon. You are constantly becoming better at public speaking._

_Ehg, _he muttered.

Islanzadí proceeded to call forth several other elves who shared stories of their dealings with Oromis and Glaedr, but none garnered the same kind of response that Eragon's small speech had. While they were speaking, he noticed Arya wrap her right arm around his side and tilt her entire body slightly to the right, leaning up against him. With a very faint smile, despite the circumstances, he wrapped his left arm around her and listened attentively to the speakers.

It was an hour later when Islanzadí finally called upon Saphira to carry out the ancient tradition of burning fallen riders. She was about to take flight, but Kuthian halted her motion with a strong mental push, insisting that he be heard before she continued.

Eragon and Saphira lowered their barriers for the dragon. They were immediately met by the words, _Eragon, Oromis and Glaedr were my friends. May I borrow your body so that I may join Saphira in honoring them?_

_Of course you may, _Eragon replied, relatively surprised by the request. Kuthian immediately pressed at his consciousness for control of his faculties, but Eragon held him back momentarily. Before he surrendered his body to Kuthian he removed his arm from around Arya and said softly, "Kuthian will be controlling my body for awhile."

She bowed her head and stepped back, giving him the go-ahead. Satisfied, Eragon released his barriers and surrendered himself to Kuthian's control.

Kuthian wasted no time. He immediately leaped onto Saphira's back, urging her to take off. Eragon knew why he was so impatient. When he had merged with Eragon at Belatona it had been Eragon in control, but now Kuthian was going to get the opportunity to honor his friends and to be a dragon in full once again. If it had not been for the nearby elves, Eragon thought that he would have transformed at that moment instead of waiting until Saphira was in the air.

Saphira responded to the urging by spreading her wings and taking to the skies, flapping quickly to gain altitude. As soon as Kuthian was satisfied, he allowed Eragon's body to fall off of Saphira side, plummeting to the ground head first. Eragon had to suppress the urge to reclaim control of his faculties and halt his descent. As much as he trusted Kuthian, it was still frightening.

As Eragon's body fell quickly, attracting startled exclamations from the people below, he began to glow. The glow intensified like before, and it also slowed his fall. For a moment, if one were to look up from the ground, it appeared that Eragon's descent had halted and he was floating in the air.

The moment was short-lived, however, as a thunderous roar came from within the glow. Kuthian's roar was immediately followed by the dimming of the glow and by his immense form surging up into the sky. Below, thousands of awestruck elves and humans clapped for what they could only understand as a magic trick by Eragon.

Kuthian spiraled up and above Saphira. Eragon, through his intensely intimate connection with the ancient dragon, could feel the exhilaration and joy that Kuthian felt at finally being able to fly again, no matter the circumstances that had led to it.

It took the two dragons a moment, but they eventually slowed their flight and came to a halt, hovering several hundred feet above where Oromis and Glaedr lay. They held their position for several long minute, flapping occasionally to keep aloft.

Then, as if on mutual consent, although Eragon was unable to detect any for of communication between the two dragons, Kuthian and Saphira both roared. The dragons poured all of their emotions into their roars, all of their grief, anger, remorse, and pity.

As soon as the sound faded, Kuthian and Saphira proceeded to release two spectacular streams of fire downwards towards the fallen Rider and Dragon. White flames mixed with blue, creating a light blue flaming inferno that engulfed Oromis and Glaedr.

For countless minutes the dragons bathed the bodies with their flames. The entire experience brought the mental equivalent of tears to Eragon's eyes, as he was unable to cry without a body.

Over an hour passed in near silence, the only sounds being the crackling fire and the occasional murmur of someone in the crowd. After close to ninety minutes, the dragons finally ceased their flames, unable to maintain them any longer. Still, even without their constant stimulation, the fire burned strongly for another hour before showing signs of weakening.

If it had been a human cremation, or even a normal elf, such time would never have been spent, but fully burning a dragon took incredible heat sustained for a long duration of time.

It was dark out by the time the flames had died out. Most of the humans had returned to their homes or tents, but the elves remained. As the last portion of the fire darkened it left the hill shrouded in darkness.

The problem was quickly remedied by hundreds of elves lighting lanterns or torches that had previous been unnecessary. It was then that Saphira and Kuthian finally gave one last mournful keen before drifting slowly to the ground. Saphira landed first, and Kuthian made to land next to her. There was not enough space for the two of them, however, so as Kuthian began to land Eragon felt him initiate the separation of their minds, granting control back to Eragon and returning him to his previous state just as his feet touched the ground. As Kuthian left Eragon's mind, he heard a very faint, _Thank you, Eragon-elda._

"You're welcome," he murmured to himself, taking a short moment to adjust to once again being in control of his own body. He glanced over his shoulder at where Oromis and Glaedr had laid, and he was saddened to only see a pile of ash.

The ceremony was concluded. At a Rider's funeral there were never closing words. The full life of a Rider was rarely realized at their death and often only became truly clear as time passed on and they were no longer around. Thus, it was deemed improper to conclude a funeral with a statement that essentially implied an ending to the deceased's story.

As the ceremony was concluded, most of the elves began to slowly disperse. Eragon noted that they moved slower than normal. His attention was diverted though as Arya and her mother meandered over to where Kuthian and landed Eragon's body. He made eye contact with both of them for a long moment, and then wordlessly embraced Arya, holding her as tightly as she was holding him, all at the same time doing his best to hold back tears.

Arya finally pulled back after a long minute. Even in the darkness he could make out how much brighter than normal her eyes looked.

Eragon was then surprised as Islanzadí embraced him, much more lightly, and for a much shorter duration of time, but the experience still amazed him. When she pulled back he made to ask her about it, but stayed his question. Still, being the perceptive queen that she was, Islanzadí said softly, "You are family to me now, Eragon." He nodded, a warm feeling blossoming inside his chest. He had lost much in the form of Oromis and Glaedr, but he had gained it back through Arya and her mother.

"What now?" Arya wondered out loud.

Eragon glanced at Saphira. "Now," he sighed. "Now, I think I need a drink."

_Little one, _Saphira said, including Arya and Islanzadí in her thoughts, _That is the most sensible thing I have heard from you in some time. _Eragon noticed that despite her tease, the emotion behind it seemed almost non existent.

"I think that I'll join you," Islanzadí said.

He turned to Arya, noting how she hesitated and glanced back at the burned bodies of her friends. When she returned her gaze to him she nodded. "It is a good idea."

They slowly made their way through the remaining crowd to an impromptu elven bar. They paid no heed to the other elves and quietly made their way over to a small table.

A waiter almost immediately came over to them. He bowed respectfully. "Noble ones, what can I get for you?"

"Three of your finest," Eragon said. "And a barrel of it for her," he motioned to where Saphira sat some distance away.

The waiter paled slightly as he heard the request for a full barrel, probably imagining that it would end up being more than a barrel, but he quickly agreed and disappeared. Several moments later he returned with three large flasks of Faelnirv while a group of others rolled two barrels out to Saphira instead of just the one Eragon had requested.

Eragon fingered his flask as the waiter departed, examining it. He removed the cap and held it up to his lips, and then sighed. "I'm going to regret this tomorrow." He was about to turn to the others and suggest something else, but he sighed again as he saw Islanzadí already taking a long drought of the liquor. Arya had already finished her first sip.

Preparing for a long night, and an even longer morning, Eragon brought the flask back to his lips and began drinking.


	18. Chapter 18: Target Tierm

Probably will end up re-writing this chapter at some point. Doesn't feel quite right, but for the sake of continuing the story here you are. No idea when next chapter will come out.

Chapter 18: Target Tierm

Eragon stood with his arms crossed at the elf-human dual training grounds in Gil'ead. In the two weeks since Oromis and Glaedr's farewell ceremony he had trained almost non-stop under Kuthian, mastering topic after topic. Kuthian's training was primarily about advanced acrobatics and speed techniques. He had already deemed Eragon a far superior sword fighter than Galbatorix, but what Eragon lacked was the nimble and effortless technique of the most agile elves. It was a subtle improvement to his already considerable skills, but Eragon welcomed any advantage that he could take in order to increase his chances of winning against Galbatorix and Murtagh.

Eragon had been focusing on a specific human for the last few minutes, as Kuthian had finally ended the day's lessons as the sun began to sink into the horizon. The human was quite proficient with a sword, relatively nimble, and extremely predictable. He was strong enough to smash his way through opponent after opponent, verbally abusing them as he did so, but his technique was easily countered and he was extremely over-confident. That didn't even take into account that he was facing new recruits from Gil'ead that had little to no experience with the sword.

A messenger ran up to Eragon, breaking his concentration on the man. The elf touched two fingers to his lips and bowed to him. "Argetlam, Queen Islanzadí requests your presence for a war council. Your mate and dragon have already been informed." It had become common knowledge in the past two weeks that Eragon and Arya were a mated pair, but it still made Eragon's insides tingle when he heard people talking about Arya as _his _mate.

Eragon nodded. "Very well, thank you." The messenger bowed and quickly departed, no doubt to inform another person that the council was to occur soon.

The man appeared to be searching for a new opponent to smash, and Eragon half-considered dueling him for the purpose of teaching him humility, but in the end he made the better choice and decided to head for the war council. The Queen's summons were not to be ignored.

As he walked toward the dedicated meeting tent, Eragon returned his attention to Saphira. She had been under tutelage from Kuthian as well. They had kept their minds connected, naturally, during their training, but it was merely for the purpose of sharing information. There was no real point where they were able to speak to each other freely during the lessons.

_How are you doing? _Eragon asked her, detecting a hint of irritation in her thoughts.

_This ability continues to evade me, Eragon. It is most frustrating! _Of course, the ability she referred to was her scale color's specific talent: moving faster than the eye could see.

_Not all blue scaled dragons have that ability, _he reminded Saphira gently.

He felt her entire being twitch in response. _I _will _master this, _she snarled.

Eragon chuckled. _Of course you will, _he said in a supportive tone.

Saphira snorted in response. _And you, little one, how are you doing?_

_I am fine, maybe a bit tired. I wonder how Arya is. I haven't seen her since the morning._

_She's already here with me._

_Hmm, alright, I'll be there soon._

_That would be good. It appears that most of the people have arrived. There are four seats left, including yours. _A trace of amusement entered into her tone. _You have been seated to the right of the Queen, with Arya to your right. Is it not amusing that the Queen's daughter is seated beside the Rider instead of the Queen?  
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_Amusing? No, I don't think so. Perfect? Absolutely._

_I'm glad you're so satisfied._

_And why shouldn't I be? _he demanded. _Things have been going well these past few weeks._

_Let's just hope that it continues, _Saphira said, in a slightly guarded tone. _It's been awhile since we've had a war council._

_True._

Eragon realized he had arrived at his destination. He briefly greeted the two guards stationed at the entrance, and then made his way into the tent and to his seat. Most of the thirty or so elven dignitaries stopped their side conversations to watch him as he settled into his chair. The level of attention they gave him was rather disconcerting.

Trying to ignore them, he greeted Islanzadí and Arya formally, as they were in public. As soon as the formalities were completed, Islanzadí said, "We will begin when Lord Däthedr arrives. He is dealing with the human government of Gil'ead right now."

Däthedr ended up being otherwise occupied for close to half an hour. About ten minutes into the wait, Arya leaned over to her left and laid her head on Eragon's shoulder, closing her eyes and, for all intents and purposes, appearing asleep.

Arya had been extremely busy in the last couple days dealing with internal elven politics. She didn't explain exactly what it was about, but Eragon got the impression that it had a great deal to do with her relationship with him and what he and Saphira had done to the Menoa Tree during their last visit. As such, he was grateful for her handling of the situation.

Eragon noticed that Islanzadi's lips twitched in a slight smile when she noticed Arya's behavior, especially in public. He understood completely that she would not have acted like that even a month earlier, and he was quite happy that she had managed to come out of her shell so quickly in that time.

Däthedr finally arrived, apologizing profusely for his tardiness when he entered. He nudged Arya slightly with his shoulder and she jolted up, looking around quickly to figure out what happened.

"Welcome back," Islanzadí joked. Eragon almost laughed as Arya's cheeks turned slightly pink in embarrassment. She had a guilty look on her face, as if she had delayed the council or something by dozing off.

With a low chuckle, Eragon said, "Don't worry. Lord Däthedr just arrived. I would have woke you earlier if it were needed."

"Mmm," Arya mumbled.

With that, Islanzadí began the meeting. "Now that we're all here," she began. "This council has been called to determine what our course of action against Tierm will be. I have already spoken with Nasuada and gotten her position on it, so all that remains is for the elves to approve or modify the current plan, and, of course, for Eragon and Saphira to agree to it."

"What's the plan in its current state?" Eragon asked.

Islanzadí rolled out a map onto the table. She gracefully placed the tip of her pointer finger just slightly northeast of Tierm. "Nasuada has sent five hundred of her best soldiers here to wait for further orders. They will arrive within a fortnight and are instructed to place themselves under Eragon's command should we go through with the plan. Other than that, we have no further details that are set in stone. Nasuada and I theorized about how many elves we would send depending on whether or not Eragon is willing to accompany them. Also, there is a matter of time to consider."

"How so?" one of the elven advisers questioned. "It seems that the longer we wait them out, the better the weather conditions might become."

Eragon shook his head. "Untrue. Much like Du Weldenvarden, Tierm is not affected by the serious snowfalls that places near it are. The main weather problem we would have is rain. It coats Saphira's wings and makes them heavier, but we are not particularly concerned about that anymore. Saphira has learned how to minimize the amount of water she catches, and I have learned a few spells that allow it to slide off easily."

"Exactly," Lord Däthedr interjected. "If you'll excuse me for interrupting, Eragon-elda." Eragon nodded, so Däthedr continued. "The main purpose of this venture is not to conquer a city, but to deprive the Empire of their primary supply source. Conquering Tierm will have great benefits for us going into the upcoming battles. Galbatorix will either have to give everyone decreased rations, or he will have to consolidate the supplies in Urû'baen, thereby making Dras Leona's soldiers much weaker."

"That is an accurate assessment," Islanzadí said. "Our objective should be to strike as soon as possible, so let all deliberations about specific parts keep that in mind."

"If time is the main concern," Eragon said, hesitating before adding the second half of his statement. "Then I might have a way of striking at the city in only the time it would take Saphira to fly there."

"You cannot take on the entire city alone," a silver haired elf said. "Not even a Rider as powerful as you can do that. You will need support."

"I'm aware of that," Eragon said shortly. "The problem with this plan is that my support would not be humans or elves."

"You're thinking of the Urgals?" Arya asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Eragon nodded. "If I called for their service in war, they would serve me."

Islanzadí sighed. "I don't know what kind of debt the Urgals owe you, Argetlam, but I don't think an army of Kull would be very well received by the citizens of Tierm. Remember, we are not trying to slaughter them. Galbatorix has a weak army there. He does not expect our strike. We only want to eliminate that army, and I doubt the other humans would surrender to Kull."

"I agree," Eragon said, holding up his hands in a shrug. "I was merely putting the idea out there. I know that none of you really know about my relationship with the Urgals."

"Would you mind telling us about that?" Däthedr asked. "It might not be supremely relevant at this council, but it would be good of you to tell us so that we might consider it in other aspects of the war as well."

"Of course. Galbatorix's original dragon was killed by Urgals. In the past decades, Galbatorix has thought up a sickeningly brilliant way of taking revenge, eliminating the Urgals, and also using them against his other enemies all at the same time. He had Durza control the minds of the Urgals war-chiefs so that he could use the Urgals to fight his war against the Varden. By this he would not only defeat the Varden, but he would greatly reduce the Urgal's numbers so that it would be a simple task to completely eliminate them at his discretion."

"That's horrible!" someone, a female, commented.

Eragon nodded. "Yes, it is. The Urgals found out exactly what was going on after I killed Durza, releasing the minds of their chiefs. Because of the relation between the events, the Urgals now consider themselves indebted to me for freeing them and they consider Galbatorix their greatest enemy."

"Impressive," Lord Däthedr said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You took a situation where everybody except Galbatorix was on the losing side, and turned it into a situation where the only loser is Galbatorix."

"Some of us are tired," Islanzadí commented in as neutral a tone as possible, but with an obvious glance over to Arya. "So, I suggest that we continue, perhaps leave the story telling for another night." Eragon found great amusement in Arya's reaction to her mother's prodding. She narrowed her eyes and frowned for a long moment, before turning her head away so that she could no longer see Islanzadí.

"As you wish," Lord Däthedr, who had asked for the story in the first place. "If it pleases the rest of you, I suggest that we create our plan of attack without including the Urgals. They can be our safety net in case we underestimate the forces required to conquer the city. If we have them wait at our staging point outside the city they can support our forces if needed, but if they are not needed they could leave without harming our chances of negotiating a surrender."

"Any objections?" Islanzadí asked. When nobody spoke up, Islanzadí nodded, satisfied. "Good, it is a solid plan. Now we have only to discuss how and when we will conquer the city. I would ask for Eragon's input on this first, as he is the one this all depends on."

Eragon shifted as everyone directed their attention to him. He merged his thoughts with Saphira's, knowing that whatever he said impacted her just as much as him. A common plan quickly became evident in their minds, so he said, "Saphira and I can leave for Tierm in a week and arrive at the same time as the human soldiers. I recommend that we send the elves immediately. If they arrive early they can scout the city, but either way it seems like the quickest and most efficient way to go about this."

"How many elves do you require for support?" Islanzadí asked.

Eragon glanced at Arya, giving her the go ahead to reply. He had no real idea of how many elves he should request. She took the cue quickly. "At least two hundred and fifty," she replied. "From what I understand about Eragon's power, he could conquer the city himself, but the soldiers are much more likely to surrender if there is a significant elven presence as well."

"It will be done. My only other question I have is about the time frame you proposed, Eragon-elda." Islanzadí leaned back in her chair. "It took you only a couple days to fly here from the Varden, so why leave a week before the battle?"

Eragon leaned back as well, welcoming the slightly more relaxed conversation. "Saphira and I thought that we might visit Utgard or Vroengard." He brought his hand up to his chin. "Actually, come to think of it, it might be a good idea to leave immediately so that we aren't so rushed when we are there."

"What do you hope to gain by visiting Vroengard and Utgard?" an elf asked.

Eragon shrugged. "I don't know. Even if we don't learn anything about how to defeat Galbatorix, Saphira and I need to visit Vroengard sometime soon. We won't have a chance after we kill Galbatorix, at least not for awhile. We need to know the condition it is in and what can be salvaged. Maybe we'll find something useful in what is leftover of the Rider's great library."

Several of the elves glanced around at each other. One of the white haired elves leaned forward. "To our knowledge, nobody has traveled to Vroengard since the Rider's fall. Even thieves are not foolish enough to tread upon the graves of the Riders. It is entirely possible that much of the library is intact, but it is also just as likely that Galbatorix burned it all." 

"Maybe it is time that we finally move on and try to salvage what we can from the Riders," Islanzadí commented. "I may send a group of elves to recover as much as possible from the island."

"No," Eragon commanded, surprised by the firmness in his own voice. "Whatever remains on Vroengard will stay there. I intend to rebuild Vroengard after this war, and there is no reason to remove items that will be brought back soon after."

Islanzadí dipped her head. "As you wish, Lead Rider. You are the sole heir of the Riders, and thus the entire island of Vroengard, and everything on it, is yours to do with as you will."

Changing the subject slightly, Eragon asked, "Queen Islanzadí, do you recall whether or not Vroengard was open to the public? I don't remember any mention of it in the scrolls Oromis had me read."

The Queen glanced at the same white haired elf that had replied to Eragon the first time. "Err, I think that it was technically open, but I can't recall anyone but the Riders and ambassadors ever visiting the island. Does that sound right to you, Aldarean?"

"Yes," the white haired elf, apparently named Aldarean, replied.

Redirecting her attention to Eragon, Islanzadí asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"Curious," he replied simply. He shook his head. "We are far off topic. Was there anything else that we needed to discuss about this attack on Tierm?"

Islanzadí glanced around the table, looking for someone that had something to say. When it appeared that there was nothing to add, she stood up and said, "Eragon and Saphira will leave in the next few days, presumably with Arya." Here she glanced at the them for an affirmation, to which they both gave a slight nod. "I will send three hundred of our strongest warriors to the city of Tierm to await Eragon and Saphira's arrival. Oh, and one other thing, Eragon."

"Yes, your highness?"

"The elves cannot help occupy the city after it is captured. We will need them back with our army before we march on Dras Leona at the end of winter."

"That should be fine," Eragon remarked.

"Good. Dismissed."

All of the elves got up to leave. Eragon observed that they didn't all try to hurry through the exit as fast as possible, as the humans typically did at the Varden, but rather they waited patiently to exit the tent in an orderly fashion.

Eragon and Arya were the last two out of the tent, on account of Eragon's laziness and Arya's exhaustion. When at last they were outside, Arya yawned expansively. "I want nothing more than to fall asleep in your arms right now," she commented, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning into his side.

Eragon laughed. "I know the feeling, but we really should get some food before we retire. I doubt you had time to eat much today."

Arya studied him for a moment, and then reluctantly agreed. "And Saphira?" she asked.

_I hunted yesterday, so I will not be joining you._

_I'll see you at our tent then? _Eragon asked.

_Of course, little one._

Eragon and Arya walked together for a minute before he finally asked, _Saphira, what do you think of this plan?_

In her mind he could sense he conflicted thoughts and slight sense of anxiety. _The plan to conquer the __city is sound, but I am nervous about visiting Utgard and Vroengard._

_I share the same sentiment, _Arya added. _But, I am also excited. It is a great honor to be allowed to visit such important places. No non-Rider has ever set foot in Utgard._

Eragon sighed. _I can tell you ahead of time, Kuthian and Vrael's corpses are still in Utgard. They have decayed to only skeletons, but they are there._

Neither Arya or Saphira replied to that, but he sensed their unease at the idea of seeing the decayed corpses of the previous Lead Rider and his dragon.

By unspoken consent, they dropped the topic as they arrived at the dining tents. Eragon and Arya were immediately recognized by one of the human servers and she quickly showed them to an open table. When the same server returned with two platters of food. Eragon observed that she wasted no time in hurrying away from their table, seeming almost apprehensive in their presence.

Arya, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice the young girl's behavior, instead choosing to focus on chewing an apple. Eragon took a bite of his own fruit before asking her, "So, what exactly have you been doing these past few days?"

A grimace past across Arya's face briefly, thoroughly summarizing her opinion on what she had been dealing with. "Forgive me for not keeping you informed, but this was easier for me to do alone."

Eragon smiled. "I do not fault you for your secrecy. I just am curious now."

With a resigned sigh, Arya said, "I have been making amends for the incident with the Menoa Tree, and more importantly, I have been wading through the sewers that are elven politics when it comes to something like the relationship we now have."

"Why did you not seek my assistance? Half of the burden of our relationship falls upon me, and Saphira and I bear the sole responsibility for the Menoa Tree." He made sure to speak in more of a conversational tone rather than a questioning one.

Arya set the apple down and placed her elbows on the table, weaving her fingers together in front of her face and resting her forehead upon her hands. "Eragon you are perhaps the most powerful person in Alagaësia, and you have the charisma to support it, but neither of those gifts would prove helpful to myself or to you when faced with the intricacies of elven politics." She looked up and noted that he wasn't offended by her statement before continuing. "Regardless, as you well know, bonds between elves and humans are quite rare, and certain dignitaries were _concerned _about me, not because they particularly care about me, but because I am the blood heir to the throne. I have had to reassure them thoroughly that my being with you does not render me incapable or ineligible to take the throne, not that I particularly want it."

"Does our relationship tie me to the throne, or give me the right to succeed Islanzadí?"

At that, Arya met his eyes. "Yes, it does, in this case. You have been accepted into the royal family of the elves and you now have all the power and influence that title offers. Because of that, you can see why it has been such a hassle to convince people that they should allow us to be together."

"Allow us?" Eragon asked. "Do you mean to say that they would have tried to forcibly separate us if you did not convince them well enough?"

"In a way," Arya admitted. "They would either separate us or demand that the Queen denounce our relationship and disown me, _again._" She shrugged. "It did not particularly matter. You already know that I would have stood by your side regardless of the outcome."

Eragon smiled at her, reaching one of his hands across the table to place it on top of hers. "And about the Menoa Tree?" he asked.

She shrugged. "More of the same. How can he be King if he has offended the Menoa Tree?"

"I trust that you informed them that I do not want to be king, ever."

At that, Arya sighed. "I do not want to be queen either, Eragon, but we don't always get to choose our future, not even you." 

"No, I won't, _can't, _become king. A Rider as the leader of a particular race is part of the reason we have such a problem with Galbatorix."

"Eragon," Arya said quietly and in a tone that betrayed just how serious she was about it. "I would rather live a life in exile than take the throne as well, but the point is that if my mother dies in this war, the elves will not have the time to determine a new ruler. You and I, the royalty of the elves, will need to step up and take control, even if it is just for the war, no matter how much either of us wishes to avoid the scenario. The same principal applies to Nasuada and the Varden. Should she be killed, there are few that could take her place. If the worst happens, you could very well find yourself not only as the king of the elves, but also as the ruler of the Varden. _That _is why the elders needed to be sure that you were the correct person for the role." She glanced down. "Please, do not tell me that I was wrong in supporting your honor and integrity in this matter."

Eragon squeezed her hand, causing her to look up and smile faintly. "You know that I will do whatever is needed to defeat Galbatorix." He paused for a long moment, and then drew in a sharp breath. "If, _if _that involves succeeding Islanzadí or Nasuada then I will accept my place, but only until the war is over. There will be no way to convince me to remain in such a position for longer than is absolutely necessary, especially when there are many wiser people that could rule in my stead."

Arya nodded. "I am glad you have come to that understanding, but in reality, I have a hard time picturing in my head someone being a kinder and more worthy leader than you."

"Worthy?" Eragon laughed. "I am a farm boy from Carvahall."

"You are a descendant of legends, Leader of the Riders, Slayer of Shades, and bringer of hope. No one is more worthy."

The corner's of Eragon's mouth twitched as he grinned at her. "Is that what you told them?"

Arya shrugged. "More or less." She shook her head. "It would be a great favor to me if we could talk about something more pleasant than my last few days." Eragon gestured for her to go ahead, eliciting a sigh of relief from Arya. "Good, thank you. Have you heard anything from Roran and Katrina lately?"

Eragon shook his head. "I should probably contact them tomorrow. It's been a couple weeks since we talked. I think I'll ask Roran when they are expecting the baby. I, and probably you as well, should try to be nearby at the time she gives birth."

He observed Arya's lithe fingers carefully snatch a carrot from the edge of his plate. She proceeded to slowly chew off small sections of the vegetable, chewing in a methodical manner. When at last the final piece had been swallowed, she said, "Sometime after this war, I hope we have a chance to spend some time with them. My knowledge of their lives is limited to what you have told me and the brief conversations we have had over the past year. As limited as that sounds, I gather that they know even less about who and what I am."

"I don't even think they know that you are the princess of the elves," Eragon remarked.

Arya intertwined her fingers as she pondered his comment. "Something I've always wondered," she began. "Is how you felt when you learned about that."

"Shock at first, and then understanding. You always seemed too regal, too fair to just be an elf. I suppose I always knew that you were someone special, but I doubt that I'd have connected the dots. And you?" he asked. "When I followed you to the glade on the final night of the Agaetí Blödhren and you saw the change I had gone through, how did you feel?"

There was a faint sigh from Arya. "It was a mixture of relief and fear, I suppose. When I realized that it was you, I knew at that moment that your back was healed and that you had likely been gifted with the abilities to match your appearance, but it also made me afraid. I was aware of your infatuation with me at the time, and I feared that you might try to use your new appearance as a way of justifying a relationship between us."

Eragon laughed sadly. "It appears your feelings weren't so far off. "

"Still, I'm sorry that I crushed your heart so strongly that night. I haven't had the will to bring it up until now, but I really regret how harsh and closed off I was."

"You did the right thing, I suppose," Eragon replied, a sad smile on his face. "I've changed a lot since that night, for the better, I would say."

"Indeed you have."

Eragon glanced down and observed that they had both finished eating. He rose from his chair and grabbed his paper plate. "Come, we should return to the tent. Saphira will be waiting, and you are tired."

Arya agreed and together they made their way out of the pavilion, throwing their plates in a trash can on the way out. They walked the length of the elvish camp briskly, taking only several minutes to cross it's breadth. Eragon let out a sigh as the finally reached their tent.

Eragon stayed outside as Arya entered, wanting to spend a moment with Saphira. He walked up to the curled up dragon and scratched the area behind her ears affectionately. In response, Saphira began humming in a way that reminding Eragon of a cat purring.

With a silght chuckle, Eragon patted her side and joined Arya inside the tent.


End file.
